Lord of the Rings: The Road Trip
by Lordy Duffano
Summary: All of the fantasy goodness plus random chapter themes, even more random catchphrases, and constant bickering between my multiple personalities. Get ready for some metaphorical translation goodness!
1. Two Authors and A Revision Gag

WARNING: You have entered a highly dangerous zone. Scientific research involving monkeys and rocks has linked it to lowering of IQ levels, brain deterioration, and the virus influenza. It is suggested that upon exiting entering this space, you take the prescribed sterilization bath you stay in the vat labeled "Mysterious Liquid of Safeness". It is also suggested that you visit a psychiatrist soon after leaving. Please keep hands and arms inside the vehicle at all times. Thank you, and have a nice day.

"Stephano, they're so going to notice that," Lordy Duffano said, surveying the sign Stephano had just "edited."

"Nuh uh. Why would they? My edits were flawless."

Lordy Duffano sighed, "Maybe it's the fact that they're written in pink crayon."

"PUCE!" Stephano corrected hotly.

Lordy Duffano rolled her eyes. "Whatever. The fact that you underlined everything instead of crossing it out might have something to do with it too."

"… Shut up!"

"I'm going to start the story now, so that I don't lose all my readers," Duffano said. (So call me lazy. I took out the Lordy. It's my penname, I can do as I like!)

"WAIT!" Stephano shouted. "You forgot the disclaimer pie!"

"What?"

"The disclaimer pie! The pie that brings happiness and joy to all who partake of it!" Stephano explained.

Duffano looked at Stephano suspiciously. "Have you been reading the dictionary again?"

Stephano coughed suspiciously. "No."

"Whatever. Anyway. Sorry for the obnoxiously long author's note. But, it could be worse, trust me."

"How?"

"Well," Duffano said thoughtfully, "we could be tying them to chair and forcing them to watch C-SPAN for eleven hours straight with no bathroom breaks."

"True," Stephano conceded.

Suddenly the story screamed, "I AM MASSIVELY DISCLAIMED!"

* * *

Prologue 

Long ago, there were forged great rings of power. Seven for the dwarves, three for the elves, and nine for the race of man. But one, the great Dark Lord Sauron, forged a secret ring….

"HEY! We thought this was a spoof!" the readers protested.

"Oh yeah? FINE THEN! SCREW THIS! WE'RE STARTING OVER!" Duffano shouted.

Prologue… er… again

Long ago, there were forged great rings of much expense. The plumbers, who stole them from the original owners, took seven of them. Three were giving to the FBI as bribes. Obscenely wealthy men bought nine. And the Mob Boss Sauron stole one from a museum.

The museum was not very happy about this, and they got the FBI to investigate Sauron to create a strong case for court, backed financially by the obscenely wealthy men. They went to court, and the museum beat Sauron soundly. Mostly this was because Sauron ate a very large pizza while on the witness stand. It was a very picky jury.

So Sauron had to give the ring back to the museum. Instead of putting the ring back into that nifty plexi-glass case, Isildur, the son of the museum curator (who died in a nasty bit of an incident during the trial, involving pigeons and venomous snakes), took it for himself, completely ignoring Agent Elrond from the FBI.

"Hey that's ironic," Duffano said, giggling. "Hugo Weaving is once again an agent, except he's still Elrond."

Stephano laughed maniacally. It's best not to ask why.

But then Isildur dropped it down a sewer one day. Let us take a moment to point and laugh at him.

"STEPHANO!" Duffano shouted.

Stephano squeaked. "Sorry."

But then he dropped it down a sewer one day.

Duffano and Stephano looked at each other.

"That's good enough," Duffano said.

"Yeah."

"Wait, Isildur was killed in the real one."

"Oh," Stephano said thoughtfully. "Well that's no problem then!"

But then one day, Isildur dropped it down the sewer. This was probably because some hit men had jumped out of the alley he was walking past and started beating him with fish.

Duffano gave Stephano an incredulous look. "Fish?" she asked.

"Of course," Stephano said, not in the least bit aware that her idea was stupid.

"No. Absolutely not," Duffano said, changing the paragraph again.

But then one day, Isildur dropped it down the sewer. This was probably because some hit men had jumped out of the alley he was walking past and started viciously stabbing him.

And so, lots of people forgot about the One Really Expensive Ring.

But then there were some kids playing in the sewer many years later. They were very odd children, for they were playing in the sewer, and no normal child would play in the sewer.

Deagol found the One Really Expensive Ring in the midst of a pile of nondescript filth material. He, like an idiot, showed it to Gollum, who had been known for his mental instability and homicidal urges. Gollum immediately pulled a banana out of his pocket and, pointing it at Deagol, screamed, "This is a stick up! Give me the ring, and no one gets hurt!"

Deagol replied, "Finders, keepers; losers, weepers!"

"What about witnesses to the finding?" inquired Gollum, not lowering the banana.

"That's just not in the rhyme…"

Gollum then threw the banana down, and jumped on Deagol, strangling him. Clutched by insanity, he decided that the sewer was a lovely place to live, and decided to stay.

Tolkien Purists began screaming, "That's a plot hole! How dare you! You taint the sacred work of Tolkien!"

Lordy Duffano gave them an amused look. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I turned dwarves into plumbers like a page ago. I thought you would've realized this was a spoof when that happened."

"WE HATE YOU!" they screamed, and stormed out.

"Whatever," Duffano said boredly.

Stephano walked by, and suddenly fell through the plot hole.

"ACK! STEPHANO! I'll be right back," Duffano said. "The story can carry on by itself." And she left to find Stephano.

The story seemed to be a sentient being, and began giggling to itself. The readers became frightened.

Star Annabelle Tiffany Allison Nielson flipped her long, perfectly straight blonde hair out of her pure, deep purple eyes. She looked across the courtyard at Legolas, and batted her lusciously long eyelashes at him. She giggled as he began to drool.

Suddenly, Star Annabelle Tiffany Allison Nielson noticed that Boromir was watching her. EW, he was like, so disgusting. He kept staring at her and licking his lips. UGH. It wasn't like she was wearing a revealing dress or anything. Like, what would he be like if he saw her at home, in her time, in her mini skirts?

Star Annabelle Tiffany Allison Nielson sighed, thinking of her home. And her makeup. Oh, how she miss her makeup. And thongs. She missed those too.

But thinking of home, her bad memories began to surface. The memory of her physical abuse from her family surfaced, and tears formed in her eyes. Then she remembered Lucky, dear little Lucky. Her only friend. It hadn't even mattered that Lucky was a rabbit, since she had been gifted with the ability to talk to animals. But her brother had found out about Lucky, and in a vicious attack he had-

No! She couldn't think of it. Dear little Lucky. She had loved him so. And her brother had- had-

Star Annabelle Tiffany Allison Nielson burst into tears. She couldn't help remembering when she had found Lucky, dismembered, with his adorable little head stuck on a chopstick that was stuck in the ground.

Everyone was turning to stare at Star Annabelle Tiffany Allison Nielson. She had interrupted the Council of Elrond. Oh well, it had been dreadfully boring anyway.

But no one seemed to mind. Legolas had jumped up from his seat, and crossed the courtyard to her. Gently, he cupped her cheeks in his hands, and brought his lips closer. She closed her beautiful, violet orbs.

Duffano entered the room again, saying, "All right, I found her. How's the story- WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?"

Stephano ducked under a table. "Whatever it is, it's scaring me."

Duffano's eyes grew wide as realization hit. "Oh my god…" she said, "it's a Mary Sue."

The readers began to scream, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WE HATE YOU!"

"It's not my fault!" Duffano said frantically. "I guess when I left the story unattended, it was invaded by a Mary Sue."

Stephano inspected the Mary Sue. "We're not even CLOSE to the Council of Elrond either," she observed.

"I guess that plothole was bigger than I thought. The rest of the plot seems to have fallen through it."

"That's right! So go fix it!" yelled the Tolkien Purists.

"I thought you guys left!" Duffano shouted at them.

"Fine…" grumbled the Tolkien Purists, and left.

Stephano had been inspecting the Mary Sue closely, and suddenly said, "Hey, her initials spell Satan."

"Really?" Duffano said, finally looking at the Mary Sue bit. It made her eyes burn.

"Yeah," Stephano said, pointing to the names. "Star Annabelle Tiffany Allison Nielson. S-A-T-A-N. Satan!"

An e-mail popped up, reading, "Welcome to Mary Sue Central! Where all your bishounen fantasies can come true! You have five new Sues waiting for you!"

Everyone stared at the pop up on the screen, and began to scream.

"CLOSE IT QUICKLY!" the readers cried, covering their eyes.

Duffano tried to. "I can't!" she shouted desperately. "It's multiplying! There's- too- many! NOOOO!"

Five million Mary Sue windows appeared on the screen, each reading, "You have selected the Legomance! Please wait while the formula is loaded!" An obnoxiously and sickeningly pink Loading Bar pops up, embellished with flowers and romping puppies.

"Okay, you know what? This goes too far. I'm saving the story to a floppy disk." Duffano told everyone.

"Why?" Stephano wanted to know.

"You'll see," Duffano muttered, smiling evilly to herself and saving the story to a floppy disk. "There. Now I can get rid of this virus."

"How?"

Duffano took out a baseball bat. "With this," she said simply.

"Oh."

Duffano began smashing the computer, while bellowing, "TAKE THAT YOU FILTHY MARY SUES! AND THAT! AND THAT!"

The readers were saying to each other, "She's scary. But at least she hates Mary Sues."

"There. That should do it," said Duffano, highly satisfied. She had stopped, and was admiring the damage she had done.

"Shall we continue then?" prompted Stephano. "On this new and randomly appearing computer?" She held out said computer.

"Yeah," Duffano said, wiping sweat from her forehead. "But where'd we leave off? Oh, yes, the plot hole. Now I remember."

Gollum then threw the banana down, and jumped on Deagol, strangling him. Clutched by insanity, he decided that the sewer was a lovely place to live, and decided to stay. He lived for a great many years down there, despite various health hazards.

This all changed, however, when a band of plumbers and a certain Bilbo Baggins stumbled on him while taking a "short cut" through the sewers on their way to the plumber's old office. You see, the plumbers really wanted their spiffy red stapler back, and they had forgotten it when SMAUG, the Scientifically Magnificent Automobile Union Group, took it over. But that's a different story entirely.

Gollum had put the One Really Expensive Ring in a specific pile of nondescript filth material. But now he couldn't remember which one. Bilbo accidentally stepped on the pile that the Ring was in, and felt the significantly more solid form beneath his foot. He put the Ring in his pocket, right after blinding Gollum with reflected sunlight off on of the facets. He then ran as fast as he could in the other direction.

Gollum was not very happy about this. However, he was not like the museum, and couldn't get the FBI or the obscenely wealthy men to help him. So he just sat and brooded for a while. A very long while.

Bilbo, however, returned to his home in the sub division called The Shire. He brought with him many red staplers, which seemed to have developed an odd talent of multiplying. He sold these, and was able to buy an obscenely large house. And so, his neighbors were jealous, and hated him. He decided it would be wise, then, to not tell them about the ring he had found. Besides, finders, keepers; losers, weepers. And witnesses to the finding were simply not mentioned.

And this brings us to Chapter One.

"Wow, Stephano. I didn't think we'd ever finish," Duffano said, leaning back in her chair.

"Thank goodness we did," Stephano replied.

"I had thought for sure when we found that Mary Sue…"

"Well, we recovered all right at the end. It turned out okay, didn't it?"

One of the readers stood up. "Your story sucks," he said.

"SHOVE OFF!" the authors yelled at him.

"Or she'll hit you with her baseball bat!" Stephano said confidently. Then she realized her partner didn't have the bat. "Where's the bat?" she asked.

"I had it incinerated," Duffano told her.

"Why?"

"It was tainted with Sue-ness."

"Oh."


	2. I Want A Secretary!

"Holy crap, so many reviews!" Lordy Duffano said, looking at all the reviews the two had received. "I never got this many writing serious stuff. So screw the serious stuff!"

"YAY!" said Stephano, who did not like the serious stuff.

"Anyway, thank you all who reviewed. It made me happy. And it made Stephano full, because she ate your reviews," Duffano said.

Stephano burped.

Duffano continued, "Sorry about that. If anyone's offended, they can complain to our secretary."

"But we don't have a secretary," Stephano pointed out, giving Duffano a curious look.

"SHH!" Duffano hissed. "Don't tell them that! We must make them believe that we actually have enough money to hire a secretary."

Stephano stared at her friend. "If we had enough money to hire a secretary I have two questions. One, why would we waste it on hiring a secretary when we don't particularly need one? And two, why would we be writing FanFictions?"

"Have I ever told you that I hate you?" Duffano said, after a long pause.

"Yes."

"Okay, now just replay that moment in your head for about four years and you'll understand the hatred I feel for you at this moment."

"That's a long time," Stephano observed.

"I hate you a lot," Duffano said. "Now, isn't it about time that we disclaim the chapter and start it up already? I doubt even our wonderful reviewers are able to tolerate us for much longer."

Stephano shrugged. "Okay, sure."

"Yeah, so, peoples, we don't own any of this. You already knew that, but we're required to say this by law. And if we owned this, we might have enough money to hire a secretary," Duffano said.

Stephano muttered, "Waste of money…"

"SHUT UP!"

Chapter One

It was a wonderful day at the Baggins household. It was the day of Mr. Bilbo's traditional Labor Day Bar-B-Q. The whole gang was there: Gandalf, Frodo, Sam, and some random neighbors that no one particularly liked. Even Merry and Pippin had forfeited their fraternity's festivities to come to the party.

"Merry, Pippin! Uncle Bilbo says your not allowed to get within ten feet of the grill," Frodo called from the opposite end of the yard.

"Why not?" Merry demanded.

"I'm not sure, but I think it's the atmosphere of alcohol that follows you. He doesn't want a fire like _last_ year when you assumed beer would put out the fire when his oven mitt burst into flames. He still has scars from that," Frodo answered disapprovingly.

"Well how was I supposed to know that alcohol was flammable?" Pippin snapped. "It's liquid!"

"So is gasoline, Pip. And you do know that gasoline is flammable, right?" Frodo retorted.

"Of course I knew that!" Pippin said indignantly. As soon as Frodo turned away to talk to the neighbors that no one liked, however, he turned to Merry. "Gasoline is flammable?"

"Twit!" Merry said, miraculously avoiding annunciation. The two staggered off to laugh at the hilarious antics of the juniper bushes.

"All right, everyone!" Bilbo said as he came out carrying a plate piled with uncooked steaks. "How do we want 'em cooked?"

There were choruses of rare, medium rare, and various other levels of being cooked. There were also calls of "Kitty!" and "Llama roast!" that obviously came from the tipsy Merry and Pippin. They were ignored. Bilbo also left theirs raw. They wouldn't notice. They might get food poisoning, but at least they wouldn't notice.

"Hey, Frodo?" called Sam. "Did you know you have a very large portable safe buried in your garden?"

"Portable safes are a waste of money," Stephano said. "If they're portable, couldn't the thieves just take the safe?"

Duffano gave Stephano an evil look. "You stole that from Jeff Foxworthy."

"SHHH!" Stephano hissed, eyeing the readers malevolently.

"Sam, are you digging in my garden again?" yelled Bilbo.

"No," Sam lied. The problem was, Sam was really quite a horrible liar. And he didn't have the sense to try and back up his lie with physical evidence. So as he said that he wasn't digging in Bilbo's garden, he was in fact sitting in a rather large hole, covered with topsoil and Miracle Grow.

"It certainly looks like you were," Bilbo said sternly, giving Sam "The Look."

"Cue evil music!" Stephano yelled.

Music kicked in, "DUN DUN DUN!"

Bilbo suddenly noticed the safe that Sam had in his hands. "MY SAFE!" he cried, running forward, and snatching it from a bewildered Sam. He then scurried up a tree, not unlike a squirrel. Oddly enough, he also sat on a branch and chattered at them, clicking his teeth.

"Stephano!"

"Okay, okay, I'll take it out."

Bilbo suddenly noticed the safe that Sam had in his hands. "MY SAFE!" he cried, running forward, and snatching it from a bewildered Sam. He then ran, all the way to Vermont.

"Duffano!"

"Sorry."

The readers were looking at each other, and wondering aloud, "Didn't they do this in the last chapter?"

"Hey, if Austin Powers can use the same penis and shadow jokes in all of the movies, we can damn well use the revision joke twice!" Duffano snapped.

Bilbo suddenly noticed the safe that Sam had in his hands. "MY SAFE!" he cried, running forward, and snatching it from a bewildered Sam. He then ran into the house and locked the door behind him. Everyone except for Frodo just looked bewildered and left.

Gandalf, the old appraisal expert, hammered on the door. "Bilbo! Bilbo, open this door! I say, open this-" He paused to look at the door. Several minutes passed, in which he inspected the door thoroughly. "This $450 door!"

"NO! And I'll have you know, it was $550!"

"Then you were ripped off! I mean, look at this. The lock is horrible quality. If I twist the handle like _this_ it opens," Gandalf shouted back, giving the knob an extra hard twist. The door swung open, revealing Bilbo sitting in the corner, hunched over the safe. "I'll be out in a moment," Gandalf said to Frodo. "I think he can only handle one person at a time at the moment."

"Oookay," Frodo said, not really wanting to be anywhere near Bilbo for at least an hour.

Gandalf entered the house and skewered Bilbo with "The Look."

"EVIL MUSIC!"

"DUN DUN DUN!"

"Now, Bilbo. I demand you tell me exactly what you've done," Gandalf said.

"Nothing. I just like the contents of this portable safe," Bilbo said.

"What's in it?" Gandalf inquired.

"No! I can't tell you!"

"Why not?"

"Well, you'll either steal it or start appraising it. I'm not sure which is worse," Bilbo said thoughtfully.

"HOW DARE YOU!" shrieked Gandalf.

"God that made him seem feminine," Duffano said.

"Well I don't think we can use the revision gag again, so it'll have to do," Stephano mused.

"Right," Duffano said, resigning herself to sub-par writing.

"Well, you do go on for HOURS about things, Gandalf. It's really quite annoying. So I don't want to show you this, because you might start appraising it and then we'll be here until March," complained Bilbo.

"Give me the safe," Gandalf demanded.

"No!" shouted Bilbo.

"Give me the safe," Gandalf reiterated.

"No!" Bilbo screamed.

"Give me the safe," Gandalf replied.

"No!" Bilbo cried.

"Give me the safe," Gandalf insisted.

"How long do you think they can keep this up?" Stephano whispered to Duffano.

"Until we run out of synonyms," Duffano told her.

"Oh." Stephano took out her thesaurus.

The readers groaned.

FOUR HOURS LATER… 

Some readers were sleeping. The synonym war was continuing.

"Give me the safe!" Gandalf recapitulated.

"No!" Bilbo vociferated.

"Got anymore?" Duffano asked Stephano.

Stephano scanned the pages of her thesaurus. "Nope. You?"

"Nope. Guess we can continue the story."

"Yeah."

Gandalf then wrestled the safe out of Bilbo's hands, and opened it. "I see you have a poorly constructed, erm, $20 safe here, Bilbo," he said. Then he removed the contents of the safe, and tossed the safe back to Bilbo. Don't worry, it was made of plastic. "I say, Bilbo," Gandalf said. "This looks like A Really Expensive Ring!"

"Oh, does it?" Bilbo said, trying to sound indifferent. If it was really expensive, that meant it would take Gandalf a lot longer to appraise it. He was well aware of this, and began looking for escape routes.

"Yes, it does," Gandalf said thoughtfully. He inspected the ring, and an inkling grew in the back of his mind. "Oh no," he muttered.

"What?" Bilbo demanded.

"I think you need to go on a vacation, Bilbo."

Bilbo smiled. "You know, Gandalf, I've been thinking about a nice long vacation for years! Maybe to Rivendell!"

"Don't be a prat, Bilbo. You can't go on vacation at FBI Headquarters," Gandalf said derisively.

Bilbo pouted. "Elrond said I could! He said they needed a new secretary. You know how good my typing skills are, it'd be perfect for me!"

"Say, don't you want a secretary, Stephano?"

"No. Stop poking me, Duffano! I don't want a flipping secretary!"

"Whatever," Gandalf said, rolling his eyes.

Bilbo decided to leave at once. He packed quickly, and went to the door. Gandalf had the feeling that he had wanted to tell Bilbo something else….

"Oh, and Bilbo!" Gandalf said quickly, before Bilbo could leave. "I think you should leave that Really Expensive Ring here."

"Why?" Bilbo asked, perplexed.

"It's worth a lot of money. So if Frodo needs financial help anytime while you're gone, he can pawn it off," Gandalf said.

"It's worth a lot of money?" Bilbo asked eagerly.

Gandalf realized his folly in telling Bilbo it was worth a lot of money. The Really Expensive Rings all created an unnatural greed in their bearers. And if this was the Really Expensive Ring he thought it was, then the greed power it held over Bilbo was insanely strong. "No, I lied," Gandalf lied quickly. "It's a forgery! If you were caught with it, you could be killed!"

"Oh. Screw that then," Bilbo said, tossing the ring to the floor and going out to the waiting taxi.

Frodo came in the back door tentatively. "Is it safe to come in, now?" he wanted to know.

Duffano waved her hand in front of her face. "Stephano, did you just fart?"

"Yes."

"Ugh. It is definitely not safe to enter _this_ room, at any rate," Duffano said, plugging in seven or eight air fresheners.

"Yes, Frodo, it's safe to come in now. Bilbo left for Rivendell."

"Yes, he's been talking about vacationing there for a while. He wouldn't listen to me when I told him that was stupid, that he couldn't vacation at FBI Headquarters. He said something about becoming a secretary…" Frodo said, remembering the odd conversation.

"Stephano! I WANT A SECRETARY!"

"Oh, shut up, Duffano."

"Yes, we just had the same discussion," Gandalf said. "Oh, and he left this ring for you?" Gandalf picked up the Ring, and handed it to Frodo.

"Why?"

"Because I think it might be evil," Gandalf said calmly.

Frodo threw the Ring across the room as if burned.

"Hey!" shouted Gandalf. "That's A Really Expensive Ring! You can't just throw it around!"

"Oh," Frodo said, going to get the Ring.

"Well, I'm off," Gandalf said, going to the hall closet and extracting his umbrella, even though it wasn't raining. Gandalf liked his umbrella.

"Stephano, why are we giving Gandalf an umbrella fetish?"

"Because I want to."

The Tolkien Purists began crying.

"Just think of it as a replacement for his pipe," Duffano consoled them. They ignored her.

"But you just got here!" Frodo protested. "Besides, who'll eat all the cake? Everyone else left! I'll get fat if you leave it here with me."

"Oh okay, I'll have a bit of cake in a box," Gandalf said.

Ten minutes later, Gandalf was again on his way out, this time with a large portion of the cake in a box under his arm. "I'll see you soon, Frodo!"

"How soon is soon?"

Gandalf thought about this. "Hell, I don't know. But I'll see you then!" And with that, he got in his car, and drove off.

Frodo didn't know it, but Gandalf was on his way to New York City, where The Museum was. He had to find some record of the One Really Expensive Ring, to see if his hunch was correct.

He went into the archive section of The Museum, and began looking through the filing cabinet "R." Finally, he found what he was looking for, a photograph of the One Really Expensive Ring and some background information.

"Oh. Shit," he said.

"THE END!" shouted Stephano.

"Of the chapter, anyway," corrected Duffano.

"Nope," Stephano said cheerfully. "That's where the story ends!"

Duffano glared at Stephano, and hit Stephano with her shoe. "Don't be stupid. That's not where it ends."

"It isn't?"

"Where were you when we watched all of those movies? And read that damned long book?" Duffano demanded.

"The bathroom."

"Do you realize that it took us roughly four months and twelve days to read the book and watch the movies?"

"I was constipated."

"I didn't need to know that."


	3. Dysfuntional Bowels and Denial

"Wow, you people are inconsistent. I get like seven reviews in the half-hour after I post the story, and now like none. Maybe it's because I had to repost it…. But you guys should be able to figure out how to find it. For God's sakes there's a flipping SEARCH option," Duffano said.

"There isn't anymore to the story!" Stephano said. "I swear!"

"Yes, there is, Stephano."

"There is not!" she insisted.

Duffano put her hands on her hips and glared at Stephano. "There is so," she said firmly. "Now shut up so I can disclaim this thing."

Stephano crossed her arms, muttering under her breath.

Duffano rolled her eyes. "I suppose that's as good as I'm going to get. Anyway, this isn't ours. It's Tolkien's. You know that, I know that, but Stephano doesn't know that, so she's the only one learning anything here. And besides, if we owned it, she might know that it doesn't end at Gandalf at Gondor."

"IT DOES!"

"Okay Miss Constipation."

"Hey, leave my dysfunctional bowels out of this conversation!"

"That's gross. Never say that again."

* * *

Chapter Two 

Gandalf walked into the Baggin's house a week later. He heard the TV going in the basement, and started towards it. He had to pick his way through a thick coating of underwear and socks that had accumulated on the floor. He wrinkled his nose at the empty potato chip bags that littered the steps to the basement. He received an unpleasant surprise when he stepped on something soft and squishy, and discovered it was a moldy salami sandwich.

"Frodo!" he called, fed up with the chaos. "Frodo, are you still alive in here? Or have the socks smothered you?"

"This is where it ends, right?" Stephano whispered.

"No, Stephano, it's not," Duffano said tiredly.

"That's right. Because it ended last chapter!" Stephano said triumphantly.

"No it didn't! Now shut up, Stephano!" Duffano snapped.

There was no answer. Now worried, Gandalf delved further into the basement, coming closer to the television. He found Frodo passed out on the couch, with a lampshade on his head, and a half-full bag of chips clutched to his chest. Gandalf turned off the television and hit him over the head with his umbrella. "WAKE UP FRODO!" he shouted.

Frodo jumped, and sat bolt upright. "AHHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT?" he screamed.

"I'm back. I've something important for you to hear," Gandalf said.

"Gandalf? Is that you?" asked Frodo. "I can't see you. OH MY GOD! I'M BLIND! I'M BLIND GANDALF, BLIND!"

"Frodo, you idiot. Take that lampshade off of your head," Gandalf said, annoyed that Frodo was so stupid.

"Oh. I forgot I put that there," Frodo said, taking the lampshade off and returning it to the lamp.

"Why did you have a lampshade on your head in the first place?" Gandalf demanded.

Frodo said seriously, "It seemed logical at the time."

"Ah. Were you drunk?"

"No. But I've only had three hours of sleep all week."

"That might have something to do with it. What have you been doing all week that's made your home such a mess?" asked Gandalf.

"Nothing," Frodo answered.

"No rowdy parties?" Gandalf pressed, not believing Frodo.

"Well, Sam, Merry, and Pip were over the other day."

"Okay. By the way, Frodo, I was right. Your Really Expensive Ring is the One Really Expensive Ring."

"That's nice, Gandalf," Frodo said, eating some chips.

"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation, Frodo."

"The gravity of the situation is that you insist on continuing this charade!" Stephano shouted at Duffano. She had jumped to her feet and was pointing defiantly at Duffano.

"Charade? Shut up and sit down, Stephano. You don't know anything," Duffano answered calmly.

Stephano sat back down, scowling at Duffano.

Frodo had fallen back asleep. Gandalf hit him with the umbrella again. "Wake up, stupid."

Once he finally had gotten Frodo awake, Gandalf dragged him up the stairs and to the main floor of the house, and into the kitchen. "That Ring is the most evil thing in existence, Frodo."

Frodo yawned. "And?"

Gandalf hit him with the umbrella. "Stop being stupid!"

"Maybe if you'd stop killing my brain cells by hitting me…" Frodo grumbled.

"The Mob Boss Sauron wants this ring."

"Sauron?" Frodo said, in a high-pitched voice. He knew about Sauron. Gandalf had now convinced him of the severity of the situation.

"Yes, Frodo." Gandalf then told Frodo the history of the Ring (see Prologue). "Oh yeah, and Gollum finally came out of the sewer and told Sauron."

"Okay," said Frodo. "But that means- OH SHIT!"

"Yes, Frodo, it means that Sauron's super-hit-men, the Nazgul, are on their way to kill you."

Frodo stared at Gandalf, and then began screaming, "GANDALF HELP ME! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE! I HAVEN'T EVEN LOST MY VIRGINITY YET!" Frodo suddenly realized what he had just said. "I didn't just say that."

Gandalf was grinning. He loved being able to blackmail people. "Yes you did. And I heard you."

Frodo groaned. This was going to _suck_. "So, what should I do, Gandalf?" he asked.

"Well, first get laid-"

"I mean about the Ring!" Frodo interrupted hotly.

Gandalf smirked. "You need to go to Bree. You and the Ring should be safe until I get-"

Sam suddenly fell through the roof on top of them.

"SAMWISE GAMGEE!" Gandalf roared. "One, get off of me, and two why were you listening to our conversation through a hole in the roof?"

"But I wasn't!" Sam protested, covered with bits of plaster, insulation, and a shingle in his hair. He stood up quickly.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Gandalf shouted, standing and brushing himself off. "Why else would you be on the roof?"

Sam pulled the shingle out of his hair and held it out as evidence. "Erm, shingling the roof," he lied.

"You suck at lying, Sam," Frodo informed him. "Which sucks for you, since you seem to be a compulsive liar."

"But I'm not!" Sam lied.

"What did you hear?" Gandalf demanded.

"I heard that the story was over," Stephano said loudly. Everyone ignored her. She went and sat in a corner.

"Nothing! The hammer was too loud," Sam lied, again.

"Sam, if you had been hammering, we would have been able to hear it," Frodo pointed out.

"What did you hear, Samwise?"

"Something about the apocalypse," Sam said reluctantly

"Well, Frodo, he listens better than you do, apparently," Gandalf said.

Frodo pouted.

"Oh wipe that disgusting look off your face, Frodo. I've decided you're taking Sam with you."

"To stop the apocalypse? YAY!" Sam cried gleefully.

"Here, take my station wagon, boys," Gandalf said, holding the keys out. "Just don't ding the door. Last time that happened I had to pay-"

Sam snatched the keys from him, and yelled, "ROAD TRIP!" He and Frodo ran out to the car. "Wait, Frodo, I can't drive."

"For heaven's sakes, Sam, you're twenty three years old!" Frodo said, grabbing the keys from his friend and getting in the driver's seat. Sam slid into the passenger seat. "Ready for a road trip, Samwise?"

"HECK YEAH!" Sam shouted, punching the air with his fist. With that, they roared out of the driveway, narrowly avoiding the trashcans.

The drove without speaking for a while. Sam was having a fight with the radio, and wasn't able to find a good station.

"Just check Gandalf's CDs, Sam," Frodo said, watching the road.

Sam reached under his seat, which was apparently Gandalf's favorite place to store CD's. He shuffled through them. "Madonna?" he suggested.

"Hate her hair."

"Celine Dion?"

"God no!"

"Um… Cher's greatest hits, volume 87?"

"Just guess, Sam."

"Um… hey, never heard of this girl before. Renée Fleming. Haunted Heart album."

"Never heard of her. Might as well try it."

Sam popped in the CD. An insanely high soprano note came blaring through the speakers. He and Frodo covered their ears.

"Make it stop!" Frodo yelled over the opera.

Sam quickly ejected the CD, and threw it out of the window.

"I said make it stop, not destroy Gandalf's possessions!" Frodo shouted, his hands now back on the wheel.

"I'm sorry!" Sam shouted back. He rifled through the CDs again. He held one up. "Hey, what about Sounds of the Weather Channel?"

Frodo abandoned watching the road, and stared at Sam incredulously. "Sam, do you listen to yourself when you speak?"

"I drift in and out…."

"Just shut up, Sam."

"FRODO LOOK OUT!" Sam screamed.

Frodo put his eyes back on the road in time to swerve around an old lady crossing the street. Sam continued staring at her in the rearview mirror. "Why the hell was that old lady walking across a three lane state highway?" he wondered aloud.

The authors snickered.

"How the hell should I know?" Frodo shot back. His gaze fell on the gas meter. "Uh oh, Sam we need to stop for gas."

"Whatever."

They stopped at the local WaWa-

"We don't own that either," Duffano shouted.

"When are you going to stop trying to fool me into thinking that the story continues?" demanded Stephano.

"Would you stop being in denial, Stephano?"

They stopped at the local WaWa to fuel up and get snacks. They were roaming the small convenience store when two figures flew into them, knocking them down and sending candy and chips everywhere.

"Oops, sorry Sam, Frodo," Merry said, jumping up and hurriedly shoving candy bars into a backpack he carried with him.

"What the hell?" Frodo said, as Pippin began stuffing his pockets with packs of gum and breath mints.

Someone towards the front of the store began yelling. Something about someone stealing something. Realization dawned on Sam and Frodo.

"You've been into farmer Maggot's crop!" Sam shouted.

"Hold this," Merry told him, shoving the backpack into Sam's hands and loading more goods into it. "And why do you insist on referring to him as a farmer, Sam?"

"Yeah, he owns a WaWa for heaven's sakes," Pippin said, still shoving the stolen goods into his pockets.

"I'LL GET YOU, YOU HOOLIGANS!" Mr. Maggot of the WaWa shouted, waving a hero sandwich in a threatening manner.

"You gotta help us, guys," Merry said. Pippin gave a pathetic sort of pout.

"Gandalf's car's out front," Frodo said. "Now run!"

The four ran to the car. Frodo was driving as before, with Sam in the front. Merry and Pippin tumbled into the back with their booty. "DRIVE, DRIVE!" Pippin screamed, slamming the door closed. Frodo slammed on the gas, and they roared out of the WaWa.

A hearse drove by.

"You don't think that's important now," Duffano said, "but you will, believe me."

* * *

Gandalf jumped out of the car, and slammed the door shut. He took a deep breath of the fresh air, and turned to the mansion of Isengard. He knew that Saruman, his longtime friend and a longtime museum curator, would have an idea about what to do with the ring. Gandalf went to the door, and banged on it with his umbrella. 

The door swung open, to reveal Saruman, an elderly man spiffily dressed in a white suit. "Ah, Gandalf, I had a feeling you would be coming."

"Yeah. Listen, Saruman, I found A Really Expensive Ring. Well, The One Really Expensive Ring, to be precise."

Saruman perked up at the mention of The One Really Expensive Ring. "Really? Well, come in, come in."

Gandalf entered. "What should we do, Saruman?"

"I don't know. Why did it take you so long to figure this out?"

"Because Bilbo had it in a portable safe buried in his back yard. And he was acting very protective of it, and almost kept it when I let slip that is was An Expensive Ring," Gandalf explained.

Saruman stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Hm. Well, this is a good time to show you… _this_," he said, reaching into his pocket and extracting a large round rock.

"Is that a-"

"Paperweight? Yeah, it was a Christmas present from my employees. I forgot I had it in here. Anyway, this is what I really wanted to show you." He extracted a black, sleek cell phone from his pocket. He fumbled with it, and it fell to the floor.

Gandalf picked it up. Saruman suddenly looked tense. "Give it back, Gandalf," Saruman commanded.

"No, I wanna see who you've been calling! Got a girlfriend? I've heard rumors that your cell phone bill has been extravagantly high lately…" Gandalf taunted, keeping the cell phone out of Saruman's reach. He held it aloft, and Saruman tried vainly to get it from the taller man.

"I forget. Which is taller?" Duffano asked Stephano.

"It doesn't matter!"

"You're just saying that because you're a sore loser, Stephano."

"Give it back!" Saruman whined.

"No, I wanna see!" Gandalf teased. He flipped open the cell phone and found the recent calls. He gasped. He saw, over and over again, the name Sauron. He jumped away from Saruman. "You've been calling Sauron!" he accused.

"Nuh uh!" Saruman protested.

"Then what's this?" Gandalf demanded, showing the incriminating evidence.

Saruman snatched the cell phone from Gandalf. "You know too much. I can't allow you to leave Isengard."

"Fat chance that you can stop me!" Gandalf turned towards the door.

"There is only one way to decide which of us has the power here, Gandalf," Saruman reminded him quietly.

"You can't mean-"

"Yes…" Saruman said. "The Price is Right!"

"Yes, you read that right," Duffano assured her readers.

"Are you SURE that there's more to the story?" Stephano whined.

"Stephano, we're not even a quarter of the way through of the Fellowship. Then we've got the Two Towers and the Return of the King. This is going to be a very long fanfic."

Stephano groaned and curled up in a ball on the floor.

"Well, it'll really be three. I think we'll have three different fics for each of the parts," Duffano continued, not noticing the state of Stephano.

"This is why I don't want there to be anymore to the story!" Stephano shouted at her from the floor.

With this outburst, Duffano realized that Stephano was lying on the floor. "Why are you on the floor?"

"Because it helps me deal with my emotional problems."

"Right…"

"Okay, so it doesn't."

"Didn't think so. Anyway, readers, come back soon! And review! It makes us happy," Duffano said.


	4. The Crap Chapter

"This lack of reviews is making me depressed, Stephano," Duffano told her.

"Pansy," Stephano muttered.

Duffano didn't hear her, and continued, "I'm starting to lose my creative drive."

"Loser," Stephano muttered.

"I mean, if no one is reading this, why even bother?" Duffano was too caught up in her self pity to notice Stephano's asides.

"Twit."

"I like gratification! Without gratification I lose interest. I mean, why should I bother writing-" Duffano suddenly noticed Stephano miming throwing up in the trash bin. "Why are you-"

"Well, come on, aren't you going to disclaim it already?" Stephano interrupted quickly.

Being the idiot she was, Duffano switched tracks immediately. "Alright, so here's the new chapter. Only the metaphorical translation is ours, the rest is Tolkien's. Please review!"

* * *

Chapter Three 

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to a very special edition of The Price is Right!" Bob Barker yelled into his microphone. The studio audience cheered.

"Alright, bear with us people," Stephano muttered to the readers. "We've never actually watched a full episode, so we're basically just winging it here."

"Oh yes," Duffano said, "And we don't own The Price is right or Bob Barker. CBS owns The Price is Right and Bob Barker's soul."

Bob Barker continued, "Our two contestants today are Gandalf and Saruman, very respected men in the antique and museum worlds. We shall see if they measure up to The Price is Right!" The audience cheered again.

Gandalf and Saruman were at their places at the booths where they would guess the prices of the items Bob Barker presented.

"We own none of these products!" Duffano shouted.

"Our first product is a Gateway Notebook with Intel® Centrino™ Mobile Technology, with Intel® Centrino™ mobile technology with interrelated Intel® Pentium® M processor 725, Intel® 855GM chipset, Intel® PRO/Wireless 2200BG network connection (802.11b/g) and extended battery life capability. Also with 512MB PC2700 DDR SoDIMM for multitasking power, expandable to 1.5GB; 400MHz frontside bus, 2MB L2 cache and 1.6GHz processor speed, Multiformat DVD±RW/CD-RW drive," Bob Barker said, and the computer rolled out onto the stage. "Now, gentlemen, name that price!"

Saruman and Gandalf both peered at the computer, and then scribbled figures down on their screen madly. "Now let's see whose price is right!" The numbers blinked into existence on the screens attached to the front of their booths. Gandalf's read $2,000. Saruman's read $1,500. "And Saruman wins! The actual price was $1,199.99. Congratulations Saruman! Come on down!"

Saruman joined Bob Barker onstage, looking evilly delighted. Gandalf began looking for escape routes.

"So, Saruman, you get to play our game! Please, spin the wheel, to find out what you can win."

"I don't think that's how it works," Duffano muttered.

"I don't care," Stephano said. "This is a parody. They come in with low expectations, so it really doesn't matter if we get this wrong."

Saruman spun the wheel. All present watched with bated breath. Gandalf began inching towards a window.

The wheel stopped.

Everyone looked at it.

It read, "The power to throw all adversaries into a dungeon." Gandalf swore. And then the guards swooped down on him and dragged him off to a dungeon.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall! Ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!"

* * *

"MERRY! PIPPIN! Would you please SHUT UP?"

Merry smiled wickedly. "Oh Pip, I forgot where I was. Do you remember?"

Pippin returned smile likewise. "Nope. Haven't got a clue. Guess we have to restart," he replied.

"NO!" Frodo and Sam screamed.

But they had already begun again. "Nine-hundred-ninety-nine-thousand nine-hundred-ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, nine-hundred-ninety-nine-thousand nine-hundred-ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, nine-hundred-ninety-nine thousand nine-hundred-ninety-EIGHT bottles of beer on the wall…."

"Oh God," Sam muttered, cradling his head in his hands.

SEVEN HOURS LATER 

"Four bottles of beer on the wall, four bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, three bottles of beer on the wall!"

By this time Frodo was dead eyed and had shut down all sensory functions except those required by driving. Sam was curled into the fetal position on his seat, whimpering.

"Sounds like what you do when we discuss that there's more to the story," Duffano said to Stephano.

"Three bottles of beer on the wall, three bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, two bottles of beer on the wall! Two bottles of beer on the wall, two bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, one more bottle of beer on the wall! One bottle of beer on the wall, one bottle of beer! Take it down, pass it around, NO MORE BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL!"

"AND THANK GOD FOR THAT!" Frodo shouted.

Completely unfazed by this, Pippin looked out the window and pointed, bouncing in his seat. "Look, Frodo! A Motel 6! Let's stay there! Huh, huh, can we, can we?"

"Whatever."

Joining Pippin in looking out the window, Merry began bouncing as well. "And there's a Pizza Hut next door to it! I'm hungry Frodo; can we eat there? Please, please? Pretty pretty please with chocolate syrup and a cherry on top?"

"We don't own Pizza Hut," Stephano said.

"I wish we did…" Duffano muttered dreamily.

"Yes, fine, sure, whatever," Frodo snapped.

"YAY!" Merry and Pippin shouted in unison, high-fiving each other.

Moments later, they pulled into the Pizza Hut parking lot. Merry and Pippin bounded out of the car, and waited by the door, bouncing on the balls of their feet like excited puppies. Frodo followed in a more sedate manner, right after coaxing a trembling Sam from the passenger seat.

They were seated quickly. Frodo made the mistake of letting Merry and Pippin order. When the waitress came to their table, Merry rattled off an obscenely large order. "Two large orders of breadsticks, three orders of chicken wings, six side salads, three pitchers of root beer, four large pizzas (one pepperoni, one sausage, one cheese, one Hawaiian), and four personal pizzas (one anchovies, one mushrooms, one olives, one green peppers)."

Frodo stared at him. "You're pitching in with the bill," he informed Merry.

Of course, it was two hours before all of their food was ready. Merry and Pippin dug in hungrily when it came, tearing through the appetizers, two of the pizzas, and two of the personal pizzas in the space of about two minutes. Sam and Frodo suddenly lost their appetites while watching them, and only managed a slice apiece. So Merry and Pippin ate the rest.

As they were waiting for the bill, Sam nudged Frodo. "Frodo, that man over there is staring at you."

Most of the obnoxious fangirls in the readers started drooling. The other fangirls said, "Staring because Elijah Wood is SOOO HOTTTTTTTTT!"

"Oh God, just leave now," Duffano said, resisting the urge to vomit.

Frodo tapped the waitress's arm as she brought the bill. "Excuse me, but could you tell me who that man is?" he asked, pointing.

She looked to where he was pointing, and paled visibly. "That's Strider. He's one of those hunters," she told him in a hushed voice. "He comes in here every week with half a deer and insists that we make him a venison pizza."

Frodo glanced nervously back at the hunter's fatigue clad man in the back of the restaurant. Frodo suddenly noticed the shotgun resting beside the man. "Thank you," he squeaked to the waitress. She smiled and left. He began stroking the One Really Expensive Ring subconsciously.

"She's kinda hot," Pippin said, watching her.

"Oh for heaven's sakes, Pippin. Could you stop thinking with your genitalia for two minutes?" Sam snapped.

Pippin ignored him, and followed the waitress. Several minutes later, they caught a snatch of the flirtatious conversation. "And Frodo wouldn't do for you, because he hasn't even lost his virginity yet!"

Frodo catapulted out of his chair. "PIPPIN!" he yelled. He slipped, and fell backwards. The One Really Expensive Ring flew into the air. Strider made a movement towards his shotgun, as if about to shoot it. As Frodo reached up to catch the ring, it slipped onto his finger. A shaft of light reflected off of the facets of the One Really Expensive Ring, and temporarily blinded everyone in the restaurant. Hurriedly, Frodo took off the ring, and ran out of the building.

Strider followed him. Frodo was sitting on the hood of Gandalf's car. Strider grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him off. "AHHHHHHHHHHH! DON'T RAPE ME!" Frodo screamed.

"Oh shut up, I'm not going to rape you, you pansy," Strider snapped. "I've come to scold you."

"Wha- what?" Frodo stammered, confused.

Strider dragged him across to the Motel 6, and up to the room Strider had. Strider shoved him towards the bed. Frodo began screaming again. "SHUT UP!" Strider roared. "I'm not going to rape you!"

"Okay…. Then what do you want?"

"A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry."

"Yay stealing lines from the movie," Stephano muttered.

Frodo feigned innocence. "Ring? What ring? I don't have any rings."

Strider gave him a knowing look. "I said trinket, not ring."

Frodo paled. "Um…" he said.

The door burst open. Sam was brandishing his fists, and yelling, "HANDS OFF HIM YOU CREEP! I'LL BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!"

Strider laughed at him. "Calm down. I'm not doing anything to him. As I have already explained to him, I am not raping him."

Sam put his arms down. "Oh. Okay then." He entered the room. Merry and Pippin entered the room a minute later, out of breath and puffing.

"You could have _waited_ for us, Sam," Pippin complained, clutching at a stitch in his side.

"Yeah, it took us a while to pay the bill because my creditor didn't think it was actually me buying it. So we had to go through the whole process, and it was a real pain," Merry complained.

"I don't know why he thinks its odd," Pippin said to Merry. "That's the eighteenth time we've done an order like that."

"So is he raping Frodo or what?" Merry asked.

"I'm not raping Frodo!" Strider snapped.

"Oh. Okay."

* * *

"Is anyone else a little freaked out that we're all sleeping in the same bed?" Merry whispered later that night.

For they were all indeed sleeping in one bed, in Strider's room. He was sitting in a chair by the window. The window looked out over the Pizza Hut parking lot.

"Just shut up, Merry," Sam snapped.

"I'm just _saying_…"

"Well _don't_!"

Strider watched as four hearses rolled into the Pizza Hut parking lot. "Hey Frodo, do you like your car?" he asked.

"It's Gandalf's. Why?" Frodo said, getting out of bed and joining Strider at the window.

Strider pointed to the hearses. Men dressed all in black got out of them, and converged on the station wagon. They seemed to be rigging some sort of device…

BOOM!

The station wagon exploded.

"HOLY SHIT!" Frodo yelled.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin all sat up. "What was that?" Pippin asked.

"Sauron's hit men, the Nazgul, the Nine Black Hearse Drivers, just blew up your car," Strider told him.

"Why do the sheets feel damp?" Merry wondered aloud. He looked over at Pippin. "PIP!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry!" Pippin wailed. "It was just loud… and I lost control…"

"Oh just get out of the bed!" Merry yelled, shoving him out of the bed, and jumping out after him. "That was- absolutely- disgusting!"

"But why'd they blow up the car?" Frodo asked Strider.

"I put some deer limbs in your seats, to make it look like you were in the car. Since it's dark out, and the windows are tinted, they couldn't tell that they were pieces of venison. So they blew it up, to kill you," Strider explained.

"Hey, wait a minute," Merry said to Sam. "You told me this was just a road trip! You said nothing about mob bosses, and hit men, and exploding cars!"

"I told you it was a road trip to stop the apocalypse," Sam snapped. "What did you think that meant?"

"I don't know what the apocalypse is!" Merry said.

"Well we're going to stop it," Sam snapped.

"Fabulous. Absolutely freaking fabulous," Merry muttered.

"YAY! WE'RE DONE WITH THE CHAPTER!" Duffano yelled.

"Just so that we can finally update?" Stephano asked

"Precisely!" Duffano said cheerfully.

Stephano shrugged. "Oh well. They don't expect much from us, do they?"

"Nope!"

"It's a spoof, who says it has to be well written?"

The Tolkien Purists yelled, "WE DO! WE DO!"

"YOU DON'T COUNT AS PEOPLE!" Duffano yelled at them.

"Alright, let's wrap this up, Duffano," Stephano said. "I think we've pissed enough people off already with our slacking ways and poor writing skills."


	5. Slightly Cryptic Writing & Bob Barker

"Hey, Duffano, did you know that some people actually thought the last chapter was well written?" Stephano asked, as she read the reviews.

"Well that's weird," Duffano said, glancing at the reviews. "Because we thought it was a big hunk of crap. Hence it being labeled 'The Crap Chapter.'"

"It's all because of the Price is Right bit," Stephano complained. "DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!" She shook her fist indiscriminately at the ceiling.

"Stephano, you can't blame Bob Barker for _everything_."

"Oh yes I can!"

"Stephano, Bob Barker didn't burn your toast this morning. You did."

"… I don't care!"

"Oh shut up and go put the batteries back in the smoke alarm," Duffano snapped. Stephano obeyed, grumbling. "Okay folks, you know the drill. We are not J.R.R. Tolkien, and we are not New Line Cinemas, so we have absolutely no legal claim to Lord of the Rings. And the FBI should be appearing at our door any minute now."

The readers hear sirens in the background. Stephano reappears in the room. "Duffano, is that the FBI?" she asked.

"Er," Duffano said. "Maybe."

"Ah." Stephano locked the door.

There is pounding on the door. "Open up in there! Lordy Duffano and Stephano, you are under arrest for violation of the copyright laws of the United States of America!"

"Wow," Duffano said. "You'd think they'd at least know our real names."

"Well, considering we aren't actually two different people, and merely two sides of the author's personality…."

This statement caused such confusion that a rip in the space-time continuum formed, and sucked the FBI into an unnamed oblivion.

Yep. The whole damn organization.

Duffano brushed off her hands. "Ah, some peace and quiet. Now we can start the story Stephano."

"Right-o. Let's get this ass-cake rolling'!"

There was a pause, and everyone stared at Stephano. "Ass-cake?" Duffano asked.

"Um…."

* * *

Chapter Four 

"Merry, Pippin, you are going to get yourselves killed doing that!"

"Oh lighten up Sam," Merry said. "It's fun. Try it."

Strider's truck hit another bump in the road. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were seated in the bed of the truck, and all flew up into the air. Merry and Pippin went higher, having jumped with the truck. They were holding a contest as to who could go the highest.

"Fine, keep doing it. But when you're lying dead on the side of the road, I'm taking no responsibility!" Sam shouted at them.

"Just let them do it, Sam. It's not worth arguing about," Frodo told him.

Sam sighed resignedly. At the next bump in the road, there also happened to be a low hanging tree branch….

"OW!" Merry and Pippin yelled, as they both fell back into the truck bed.

"Serves you right!" Sam shouted.

"Everything all right back there?" Strider called.

"Yes," Frodo answered. The others fell quiet.

"Do you think we can trust him?" Merry whispered to Frodo.

"Well, he doesn't seem to be dangerous," Frodo said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but maybe he's in with them Hearse Drivers."

"No, I don't think so. I think he would probably give off much more negative vibes," Frodo said.

"Where's he taking us anyway?" Sam demanded.

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee," Strider called through the back window.

"The FBI?" the college boys asked.

"We never did specify exactly what the hobbits turned into, did we?" Duffano asked Stephano.

"Nope. But they are college kids. Hence Merry and Pippin being in a fraternity," Stephano answered.

"Then why is Samwise twenty-three?" Duffano asked.

"… DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!"

* * *

"Hey, boys, wake up!" Strider shouted at them through the window. 

The boys all jerked awake. "What is it?" Frodo shouted back.

"We're coming to the town of Weathertop!" Strider told them. "But first I need to get us some food. He pulled over to the side of the road, beside a large forest, and exited the car. "You four stay here. I'm going hunting for some food." He dumped a bag next to them. "Take these in case those Hearse Drivers come back." And with that, he disappeared into the forest.

"What's in the bag?" Merry asked.

Frodo opened the bag to find four very large guns staring back at him. He extracted them and passed them around. "These," he said simply.

"… Oh."

But Strider didn't return for hours.

Like seven of them.

"Seven hours?"

"Yes seven. Why?"

"Why would he be gone for seven hours, Stephano?"

"Maybe he's a bad hunter, Duffano."

Frodo had fallen asleep. Merry and Pippin were bored. Sam prevented them from doing a lot of things to keep themselves amused.

Except for one.

"Stephano, why have we become slightly cryptic in our writing style?"

"Oh just shut up and write, Duffano."

They began to fire off their guns into the night air.

Frodo awoke.

"Stephano, I'm getting tired of this cryptic writing style," Duffano complained.

"DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!" Stephano screamed.

"Stephano that has nothing to do with our writing style."

"Whatever."

"What have you done?" Frodo shouted at the others.

"We're just having a bit of fun," Pippin said defensively.

"You idiots, we have the Nine Black Hearse Drivers chasing us! We can't afford to be making this much noise!" Frodo yelled, whacking the others collectively over the head.

There was a screech of rubber in the background. The boys stared at each other. "Run!" Frodo yelled. The all clambered out of the trucked bed and ran into the forest. They stopped just inside of it, guns at the ready, back to back.

They heard the squeal of brakes out on the road.

Five sets of brakes.

"I hate this writing style."

"Stop complaining."

"I hate you."

"Well, I hate Bob Barker."

"Damn you, Stephano."

"DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!"

"What do we do?" Merry asked Frodo.

"I don't know," Frodo whispered.

They heard footsteps.

Five sets of footsteps.

Duffano groaned and began banging her head against the wall. Stephano ignored her.

The college boys huddled in their little circle, gripping their guns.

Five black men, dressed all in black, with sunglasses on, even though it was dark, emerged from the foliage.

"You didn't know we were going that far when we said the Nine Black Hearse Drivers, didja?" Stephano shouted gleefully, watching the faces of the readers. "DIDJA?"

"BACK YOU DEVILS!" Sam screamed. He tried to bring his gun around to bear on them, but it jammed, and they simply shoved him aside. Merry and Pippin tried to shield Frodo, but were shoved aside as well.

Frodo dropped his gun.

"Useless, isn't he?" Duffano muttered.

Frodo backed away, and tripped over a tree root. He pulled out The One Really Expensive Ring, and looked from it to the Hearse Drivers. One of them, the biggest, and blackest of them, reached for it. Remembering what had happened the other times he had put the Ring on, Frodo slipped it onto his finger.

A shaft of moonlight reflected off of the facets, blinding his friends.

But the sunglasses of the Hearse Drivers shielded their eyes, and they could now see him perfectly. The leader reached forward, towards the Ring.

Frodo pulled it away from him.

Angry, the Hearse Driver drew his gun and shot Frodo nine times.

"Hey! Frodo's just like 50 Cent!" Stephano yelled.

Frodo began screaming.

There was a yell, and Strider burst into view with his shotgun, and started firing off rounds at the Hearse Drivers. They screamed, and ran off, back to their hearses.

Frodo pulled off the Ring, and Sam ran to him. Seeing the bullet wounds, he turned and yelled, "Strider!"

Strider quickly came to Frodo's side. "Oh shit," he said.

"What?" the younger men asked him.

"He's been shot with a Black Gun and Bullets."

"What does that mean?" Merry demanded.

"He's turning into a black man."

Duffano stared at what Stephano had just written. "Oh my god," she groaned, covering her eyes. "I so wish it was legal for me to drink alcohol right now…."

Stephano grinned evilly. "Oh no you don't, Duffano. That'd make us just that much worse."

"A black man?" Sam repeated incredulously.

Strider nodded, not taking his eyes from Frodo. "Nine times…" he muttered to himself. He looked up suddenly, realization dawning. "Nine times! They're turning him into 50 Cent!"

Duffano groaned again, and curled into the fetal position. "I can't believe we're doing this," she muttered.

"Oh, believe it, dearie."

"Come, bring him back to my truck," Strider commanded. "We've got to get him to Rivendell."

They all hurried to help pick up Frodo, and soon had him up in the passenger seat beside Strider. Sam, Merry, and Pippin clambered into the truck bed again, and clustered around the back window. "Is he going to die?" Pippin asked.

Strider turned to look back at him. "Did Fiddy die after being shot nine times?"

"No."

"Then no, he's not," Strider answered. He put the truck in gear, and peeled away into the night.

"GANDALF!" Frodo yelled in his sleep.

* * *

Gandalf was sitting in the corner of his dungeon cell. He was considerably wet, since Saruman kept setting off the fire sprinklers in the room. Saruman really had a weird sense of humor. 

A paper airplane flew in through the window.

Gandalf smiled.

He picked up the airplane, pulled a pencil out of his pocket and scrawled a note on it. Then he threw it out the window again.

* * *

"All right. Sam, we need to get his fever down," Strider said. "We'll stop off at a CVS to get some ibuprofen. You do know what ibuprofen looks like, right?" 

"We don't own CVS," the authors chorused.

"Uh, yeah. It's in a little bottle with IBUPROFEN written on it," Sam said.

"Atta boy, Sam. Merry, Pippin, you two stay here and pretend that Frodo isn't mortally wounded."

"But he is," Pippin protested.

"That's why I said to _pretend_ he wasn't," Strider explained impatiently as he parked. "I don't want suspicion to be roused that there's a mortally wounded guy in the front seat of my truck."

"Oh. Okay."

"Samwise, let's go get that ibuprofen."

Sam and Strider left, and ran down the aisles of CVS, looking for the ibuprofen. "Damn CVS people can't label their god damned aisles correctly," Strider muttered, running down yet another aisle.

Suddenly, he skidded to a stop, and snatched a bottle off the shelf that read IBUPROFEN. Someone placed a gun barrel between his shoulders. "What's this? A hunter caught off his guard?" a female voice asked.

Moments later, Strider and Sam had reemerged, accompanied by this new woman. She hurried to the passenger side door. "He's getting close," she whispered to Strider. "See? His nose is getting wider." She pointed to his nose. "And his skin…" For Frodo's skin had begun to darken.

Strider opened Frodo's mouth and dumped some ibuprofen down his throat, with half a bottle of water after that. Frodo spluttered, but did not regain consciousness. "We must take him to my father," the woman said.

"I'll take him. You stay here with the boys-"

"No! My car is faster. I'll take him."

"It's too dangerous, Arwen."

"If we keep arguing he's going to turn into 50 Cent. The world can't handle more of his bad rap," Arwen said. "I'll take him, and my father will heal him."

"DEATH TO RAP!"

"Stephano, be quiet!"

"DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!"

"Stephano! SHHH!"

Strider sighed. "Fine," he said to her. "But be careful." He helped her transfer Frodo to her sports car of no particular make or model.

"We're lazy," Duffano explained.

"I will be," she said. And then she climbed into her car, and sped off into the night.

"Are you stupid?" Sam yelled at Strider. "Those Hearse Drivers are still out there!"

Strider merely stared after her car.

* * *

Arwen was driving for only a short time before the hearses appeared behind her. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she counted them. Eight. "Shit," she muttered. She glanced over at Frodo, who was slumped in the passenger seat, and getting blacker by the second. "Double shit!" she said. 

After a long, exciting car chase that the authors really didn't feel like writing, because they really didn't know how, Arwen reached the gates of Rivendell- an office of the FBI.

She quickly passed through security, leaving the hearses on the other side. She threw open her door and jumped out. She drew her guns and aimed them at the hearses. "If you want him, come and claim him!" she yelled.

The hearses rolled towards the security checkpoint. Arwen pulled out a walkie-talkie. "OMEGA SITUATION!" she yelled into the microphone. "I REPEAT! I HAVE A SITUATION OF OMEGA LEVEL!"

The land mines were activated, and blew up the hearses. Arwen sighed in relief. And then, the sounds of "In Da Club" came from her passenger seat. She burst into tears.

* * *

Frodo, once again Anglo-Saxon and not rap spewing, rolled over in his bed. "Wha' time izzit?" he mumbled. 

"Ten o'clock in the morning, Frodo. Oh yes, and you're in Rivendell. Elrond here turned you back into yourself," a familiar voice said.

Frodo sat up. "Gandalf!" he said gleefully.

"Yes, I am here, Frodo," Gandalf said. "You had a close shave there."

"Yeah," Frodo said, cradling his aching head in his hands. "I'm never listening to rap again. And now, all of a sudden, I know all the lyrics to 50 Cent's songs!"

Gandalf looked grave. "Yes, well… I expect your mind will never fully heal."

"Frodo!" Sam yelled gleefully, hurtling into the room. "You're awake!"

"Yes, I'm awake. And I'm never, ever, EVER listening to rap again."

Gandalf smiled. "A wise choice. I have some music that you could borrow."

Frodo looked horrified. "Uh, no Gandalf, that's all right. Hey, um, why weren't you there at Bree to meet us?"

"Um… I was… _delayed_…"

* * *

_EXTENDED FLASHBACK SEQUENCE! _

Saruman strolled into Gandalf's dungeon cell. "Why _hello_ there Gandalf!" he said, with feigned surprise. "Fancy seeing you in a dungeon cell!"

"Oh yes, sooooo surprising, I'm sure," Gandalf snarled. "Let me out."

"Nope, can't do that. I've got to try and subvert you first."

Gandalf snorted. "Fat chance. I don't know what Sauron's told you, but he's not going to let you borrow the One Really Expensive Ring or anything."

"Oh shut up, Gandalf," Saruman snapped. "At least I'm not going to be killed like you are."

A horn honked outside. Saruman turned to look in its direction, and then a limousine drove through the wall. Gandalf leapt into the back seat, and screamed "DRIVE, DRIVE!" at the driver. The car roared off, leaving Saruman shaking his fist at it.

"DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!" Stephano yelled.

"Stephano, Bob Barker wasn't in that limousine."

"You never know. Maybe it was his lifelong dream to be a limo driver, and he wrote to Oprah and she made his wish come true!"

"I'm scared for you, Stephano. Really I am."

"It coulda happened."

"Oh, just shut up and help me post this thing."


	6. Advertisements Attack

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee're baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!" yelled Stephano.

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, even though I started another FanFiction recently in a fit of soda-induced insanity, we are still updating this one," Duffano said. "I can't let you guys down, now can I?"

Stephano pouted.

"Aw, Stephano, you're not still mad at me for writing it without you, are you?"

"Of course I am!" Stephano shouted. "I want to have a part in writing 'Rubber Ducky School of Clowncraft and Stupidity'!"

"Yay for shameless self-advertisement!" Duffano shouted, throwing confetti in the air.

"This sucks," Stephano grumbled.

"Well at least you're getting credit for this," Duffano snapped. "Unlike Nanners, who comes up with half of this stuff."

Nanners burst into the room. "I want credit damn it!" she screamed.

"I'm sorry Nanners. We'll try to work you in more," Duffano apologized.

"You damn well bleeding better!" Nanners shouted.

"So here's some publicity for your FanFiction, Nanners._ Harry Potter and the Baker's Batter_ by LordHighCommanderOfTheUniverse is Nanners's fic."

"YAY PUBLICITY!" yelled Nanners, or LordHighCommanderOfTheUniverse, or Person as she is referred to by her sock puppet. And then Nanners ran off to write more of _Harry Potter and the Baker's Batter_.

Then Stephano began singing "Taco Bell, Taco Bell, product placement with Taco Bell. ENCHURRITO MUCHO BURRITO!" from Kung Pow.

"Agh! All the advertisements, and product placements!" Duffano shouted. Then she picked up a Dr. Pepper and took a swig. "Ah," she sighed contentedly. "How cool and refreshing! Dr. Pepper, with it's crisp refreshing- NO! NO! I REFUSE TO BE AN UNWITTING MARKETING TOOL!" She threw down the can of Dr- "SODA!" she interrupted frantically.

The story said, "I am disclaimed- Pepsi-Cola. Duffano and Stephano –Gatorade- don't own- Twizzlers- _Lord of the_- Levitra- _Rings_."

"Now this really sucks," Stephano groaned. "I could go for some Dunkin' Donuts!"

"NO STEPHANO! DON'T GIVE IN TO THE MARKETING DEPARTMENT! NOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

Chapter Five 

"This chapter is brought to you by Huggies!"

"NO! NO IT ISN'T!" Duffano screamed hysterically.

"Closed captioning provided by Jiffy-Lube!"

"This is a written story!" Duffano yelled. "There are no closed captions!"

And thus, the advertisements were temporarily silenced.

"And over here is the room where a very top secret weapon is," said their tour guide.

"What's in it?" Merry asked.

"Can't tell you."

"Awww… please?" Merry pleaded.

The tour guide raised his eyebrows at Merry. "Well, I _could_ tell you…."

"YES!"

"But then I'd have to kill you."

"Uh… never mind…" 

The tour guide continued. "And over on your left is another room that is very top secret that you're _also_ not allowed into."

"Dude, are there any rooms in this place where we _are_ allowed in?" Pippin complained.

"Yeah, what's the point of having a guided tour if all it does is show you where you're not allowed?" demanded Merry.

The tour guide gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, I _could_ let you into the secretary room. But don't read anything, or I'll have to kill you."

"What about the emergency exit sign?" Pippin asked.

"You can read that."

"And the no-smoking sign?"

"You can read that."

"And the no-pets allowed sign?"

"You can- SHUT UP! Just don't read anything on the desks or on the computers. Use your common sense, boy!"

"Oh, he doesn't have any of that," Sam said.

They passed Strider and Arwen, who were busy making out in a corner.

"That's just gross," Sam muttered to Frodo. Frodo glanced over at the lip-locked couple, and nodded his agreement.

The tour guide led them into a large room, filled with desks. A person sat at each desk, typing away at their computers. Frodo recognized one.

"Bilbo!" he shouted gleefully. He ran to his uncle- or third cousin seven times removed, or whatever it was- and gave him a big hug.

"Frodo, my boy!" Bilbo said, hugging his nephew- or whatever the true relation was.

"This Kodak moment brought to you by Kodak Film!"

"NO! STOP IT!" Duffano screamed.

"Bilbo, I've missed you!" Frodo cried.

"No human contact for the secretaries! Stop it!" yelled their tour guide.

"Oh come on," Bilbo pleaded. "It's my nephew. Well, technically he's my… um… aw hell I can't remember. Just call him my nephew. Anyway, somewhere in there, somebody did somebody else. That's all we need to know."

The tour guide looked as if he had swallowed a lemon. "Well… alright…. BUT NO READING!"

"How've you been, Bilbo?" Frodo asked.

"Good, good. I'm quite happy being a secretary. Gives me something to do, you know," Bilbo said.

"I'm glad Bilbo. Listen, I've got to run, but I'll come visit you later."

"All right Frodo."

And Frodo rejoined the tour. Pippin was badgering the tour guide again.

"Can I read that?" Pippin asked.

"That's the ceiling."

"Well can I read it?"

"Nothing's written on it."

"But if there was."

"That depends."

"Depends Underwear- for when you need reliable protection against bladder leakage!" an advertisement said.

"Depends on what?" Pippin pressed, not hearing the advertisement.

"Whether it was classified or not."

"Oh. Well what about that?"

"No."

"What?"

"You're not allowed to read that."

"Oh. Why not?"

"Because it's classified."

"Oh. What about that?"

"What about what?"

"The thing Sam's reading."

"What thing- WHAT ARE YOU DOING LOOKING THROUGH THOSE FILES?"

Sam flinched guiltily, an open file folder in his hands. "N-n-n-nothin'. I-I-I ain't been lookin' in n-n-no files," he lied.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yes, Frodo?"

"You still suck at lying."

"Now I'll have to kill him," the tour guide said tiredly.

Sam screamed, and wet himself. Strider and Arwen stopped making out for a moment, looked around, and went back to sucking each other's faces off. The tour guide developed an evil smile. "No, I have a better idea. You can go stand in that corner for Time Out," he said, pointing to Strider and Arwen's make out corner.

"But they're making out in it!" Sam protested.

"Punishment," the tour guide said toothily.

"This is cruel and unusual punishment!" yelled Sam.

"Yeah, seriously," Merry said. "They're squelching over there."

And then, in a confusing chain of events, involving duck sauce and a beluga wale, the Council of Elrond had arrived.

"I dunno… I got nothing…" Duffano muttered. "You, Stephano?"

"Can I have some Dunkin' Donuts?"

"Oh nevermind." Duffano frowned. "I've got writer's block. Damn."

A pop-up window popped up on the screen. It read: "Stuck on your story? Want some pizzazz? Some spice, some kick to your narrative? CLICK HERE to enhance your story!"

"OOOH! CLICKY!" Stephano yelled.

"No, Stephano, don't!" Duffano shouted, diving for Stephano. But she was too slow. Stephano had already clicked on the pop-up.

Seven hundred million Mary Sue Central windows popped up. "Welcome to Mary Sue Central!" they read. "Version 6.0, now even more perfect!"

Everyone stared at the screen in horror. Duffano was the first to recover. She grabbed the keyboard and hit Stephano over the head with it. "You idiot!" she yelled. "Now you've gone and infected the computer again! God only knows what version 6.0 of the Sue virus will do!"

Everyone watched and waited. They half expected the computer to turn pink and sprout bows and rainbows and a unicorn horn.

But nothing happened.

They waited some more. Surely at least a _tinge_ of pink…?

Still, nothing happened.

"Odd," Duffano said. "You'd think that it'd be six time worse. Since it's version 6.0…"

"Yeah," Stephano said. "But maybe it's just like, lying in wait. You know, it'll pop up later on…."

"Oh shut up Stephano. You were weak minded enough to be ensnared by Dunkin' Donuts, why should I listen to any of your ideas?"

"Um…"

"Where were we?"

"Council of Elrond."

"Oh. Right."

Moving right along to the Council of Elrond, which will receive no introduction or exposition due to the purveying laziness and stopped creative flow of the authors….

Elrond, head of the FBI, stood up. "Look, that ring is The One Really Expensive Ring. And it is _really_ expensive. And Sauron _really_ wants it. So… we're sorta screwed. Since we have it."

"I fail to see why we don't just smelt it," Frodo muttered to Gandalf.

"AN UNFORTUNATE SMELTING ACCIDENT!" screamed Stephano.

"Stephano, stop making dumb Austin Powers references!"

"Shut up, Frodo," Gandalf snapped. "You don't know anything."

"Then let's destroy it!" yelled Gimli, a plumber with a particularly hairy butt crack. He leaped up, and grabbed his plunger. He lunged to the table where the Ring was, and slammed the plunger down on the ring.

However, Gimli forgot that his plunger was made out of rubber and therefore quite- er- bouncy.

And so it bounced out of his hands and hit Legolas- a CIA agent- in the face.

"You know," Strider said, after everyone stopped laughing at Legolas, "in some cultures you would now be considered married."

Everyone stared at Strider. Elrond began plotting to break him and Arwen up. He didn't want his daughter going around with some crazy lunatic.

Boromir stood up. He was the eldest son of the Vice-Curator of The Museum. He was also head of The Museum's vast security forces. "Don't you see? We could use this against him? We could force him to leave and never return, in exchange for the Ring!"

"Don't be stupid," Strider said. Boromir scowled at him. "That would never work.

"Oh, and you're so smart, aren't you?" Boromir snapped. "You probably didn't graduate middle school, stupid hunter!"

Legolas jumped up angrily. "How dare you speak to him that way! That is no ordinary hunter! That is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the future Curator of The Museum! You owe him your paycheck!"

Strider- er- Aragorn looked embarrassed. "Shut up, Legolas!" he yelled. Legolas sat down looking miffed.

Boromir looked more than miffed. "The Museum doesn't need a curator!" he yelled. And then he sat down again.

"Whatever. Anyway," Elrond continued, "the only way the One Really Expensive Ring can be safe is if it's put back in its nifty plexi-glass box."

"Well that's easy," Boromir muttered. I'll just take it home and put it back."

"No," Elrond said. "It's in Mordor."

Boromir blanched. "The Dreaded Back Room?"

Elrond nodded. "It will not be an easy task."

"I'll take it!" Legolas said.

"No I will!" yelled Gimli.

"But what if you fail?" snapped Boromir.

Soon everyone was yelling. Except for Frodo. He was sitting there, wondering when this would be over. He really had to pee. He realized that they wouldn't stop arguing until someone completely unexpected volunteered. He stood up and yelled, "Fine! I'll take it!" No one noticed him. He stepped up onto the table and bellowed, "I SAID I'D TAKE IT! I WILL TAKE IT!" They turned to stare at him. "But I'll need some MapQuest directions…"

"Don't worry, I'll drive you," Gandalf said.

"But Gandalf, they blew up your car…"

"We can use a limo! I'll drive it! I've always wanted to drive a limo," Gandalf said.

"All right…"

"I'll come too," Legolas said. "You need proper security anyway."

"And I'll come!" Aragorn said. "That way we can eat for free if I hunt!"

"I'll come, in case you encounter plumbing problems," Gimli said.

"And I'll come," Boromir said. "Just in case you screw up."

Sam burst into the room. "I'M COMING TOO!" he yelled.

"Sam, why were you listening to our very important, very secret council through the keyhole?" Elrond asked.

"I wasn't!" Sam said indignantly.

"Then how did you know that Frodo was going somewhere?"

Sam opened his mouth, realized he was caught, and closed it again.

Merry and Pippin fell out of the air duct. "I told you that screw was important!" Merry yelled at Pippin.

"Well I'm sorry!"

"Where you listening too?" Elrond shouted.

"Yes," Merry said, unabashed. "Why?"

"You have horrible security, Elrond," Legolas informed him.

"Shut up!" Elrond snapped. "They're going too, now. There, all better." Legolas just rolled his eyes.

"Yay!" yelled Pippin. "Wait, is this still the road trip to stop the apocalypse?"

"Yes," Elrond told him.

"Oh. Okay then!"

There was an awkward pause, when everyone stared at each other.

"Can we stop for ice cream on the way?" asked Pippin.

"For heaven's sakes, Pip…"

"AND WE ARE DONE WITH THE CHAPTER!" shouted Duffano.

"Thank goodness," Stephano sighed. "Now we can go to Dunkin' Donuts."

"Damn it, Stephano! Stop listening to the PR demons!"

"Well, I'm _sorry_. I'm soooo sorry I like Dunkin' Donuts."

"Oh just stop it."

"Levitra!"

"NO! STEPHANO! NOOOOOOOOOO! HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO US?"

"Relax, I was just kidding."

"Don't scare me like that! I hate you!"

"Oh no you don't. You love me and you know it."

"Stop with the puppy dog eyes! Stop it!" Duffano sighed. "All right, Stephano. I admit it. I love you."

"EWWW!"

"OH YOU LITTLE-"


	7. Stephano's Adventure

Duffano came into the room, dragging her feet. Going to the desk, she poured herself into one of the seats.

Stephano burst through the wall, spraying Duffano and the readers with drywall and plaster. "HALLO!" she yelled. Turning to the gaping hole in the wall, she waved her magic wand and it repaired itself.

"Oh god," Duffano said, seeing the wand. "Who the hell gave you that?"

Stephano smiled. "Not telling." Noting her partner's state, she asked, "Hey, are you feeling all right?"

Duffano shook her head. "I only got four hours of sleep. I had to sleep downstairs on the couch since we're repainting my room. And the couch is right next to the TV, and I'm scared of blank TVs at night since I saw 'The Ring', so I was watching TV until like 1, but then I couldn't sleep without the TV on, so I had to figure out a system. And I was woken up at seven. It sucked."

Stephano looked vaguely sympathetic. "Poor you," she said sadly. Snapping out of her sympathy she waved her wand and the keyboard slid over to her. "Let's get cracking then. Do you want to disclaim it, or should I?" But Duffano had fallen asleep at the desk. Stephano shrugged. "Guess I'm on my own today."

The readers looked at each other, slightly worried. Stephano noticed. "Oh, relax," she chided. "I'm not going to get too bizarre. Here's the disclaimer."

Disclaimer: And then, the flying disco ball bounced into the doghouse. A knight ran in after it, wielding a flag. He ran to it with a vicious yell, and attempted to stab the ball. His flag bounced off. Throwing down the flag, he ran back out. When he came back in he was carrying a portable missile system. He aimed at the disco ball, and fired. The disco ball exploded in a ball of sparkles. The sparkles formed the words "The story is hereby disclaimed by Lordy Duffano, Stephano, and all of their subsidiaries. The plot and characters are not owned by the authors."

* * *

Chapter 6 

"Look, Frodo, it's my old gun! Sting!"

"Bilbo, why did you name your gun?"

Bilbo paused. "Shut up, Frodo," he said finally, rummaging through the locker. Frodo rolled his eyes. "OOOH! Here's a useful thing, Frodo!"

Frodo plastered a fake expression of interest on his face. "What is it, Bilbo?" he asked.

"My old flak vest!" Bilbo said, hauling out the bulletproof vest. "It's so light!"

He handed it to Frodo, who was immediately dragged to the floor with the weight of it. "This is light?" Frodo asked in a strangled voice.

"You should've seen the other ones they had. Oh yes, and Sting has radar attached to it. So you can see where the enemy is," Bilbo said. He pressed a button on the gun, and a tiny screen popped up.

"Wow… um… useful…" Frodo said.

Stephano yawned. "I'm bored. Let's liven things up." She whacked the computer with her magic wand.

And then she was sucked into Microsoft Word.

"Well," she said. "This is an unexpected consequence of my actions." She looked around. "Well this is weird. I'm inside a program. Odd. Wonder what I can do."

Stephano went over to the typing cursor, and was knocked over by it as it zoomed across the screen. "Wow! It's typing everything I do. COOL!"

She scratched her nose.

She waved her magic wand around.

"HEY! I wonder what I can do with _this_ in here!" she yelled, delighted at her idea. She stabbed the blinking cursor with her magic wand. It turned blue. "YAY! COLORS!" she yelled. She stabbed it again.

Purple.

Stab. Yellow.

Stab. Orange.

Stab. Magenta.

Stab. Chartreuse.

Stab. Puce.

"YAY! I LOVE PUCE!"

Stab. Pink. With flowers sprouting from it.

Stephano stared at the cursor monstrosity before her. The readers watched from the other side of the screen. Stephano looked over to them. "I think we're screwed."

To which one of the readers replied, "Nope. You're in the computer with the virus."

"OH SHIT!" Stephano screamed. "HELP ME!"

The readers did nothing, and just watched as the cursor glowed more brightly pink.

Stephano backed away from it, her wand out in front of her protectively. She ran over to the font color selector and hit it with her wand. "HELP ME!" she yelled at it. But it turned pink.

"AHH! NOT MORE PINK!"

Stephano stepped on the scroll up button, and scrolled to the last mentioning of Frodo. She whacked his name repeatedly with her wand until Frodo materialized next to her. "SAVE ME!" she screamed at him.

"From what? And where am I?"

"FROM THAT!" Stephano pointed at the monstrous pink cursor, now trailing rose petals, doves, and gamboling kittens.

"What the hell is that?" Frodo asked.

"A Mary-Sue cursor," Stephano told him. "I can't let it touch me. It might turn me into a Mary Sue!"

"Why is that bad?"

"Because then I'd probably rip off your clothes and have unprotected sex with you."

"WHAT?"

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT! IT'S THE GODDAMN MARY SUES! AND THAT STUPID CURSOR!"

'That stupid cursor' suddenly jumped on top of Frodo, and devoured him.

"NO! FRODO!" Stephano yelled. Then she hit the cursor with her wand again. "YOU STUPID CURSOR! THAT WAS MY MAIN CHARACTER!"

Some Tolkien purists appeared in Word as well. "THAT WAS TOLKIEN'S MAIN CHARACTER YOU PLAGARIST!"

"AHHH! Not you too!" Stephano screamed. She tried to fend them off with her wand, but they just turned into fan girls. She backed away from the fan girls. "This day cannot get any worse," she muttered.

The Sue cursor turned to her, and advanced.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! IT'S WORSE! IT'S WORSE! DON'T TURN ME INTO A MARY SUE! PLEASE!" Stephano pleaded as she scrambled away from the cursor.

The cursor kept coming. Stephano threw her wand at it, but it merely swallowed it. "What to do, what to do?" Stephano muttered frantically, groping in her pockets for something, anything that could save her. The only thing she found was a can of Extreme Fluffy Mcnutter Gap Holder plot hole filler. "Oh this won't help," she said, about to toss it away.

But then she saw the inconveniently placed warning label. It read: Warning! Prolonged and excessive exposure to Extreme Fluffy Mcnutter Gap Holder may cause mutations. Use caution when using this product.

"Mutations… maybe, just maybe- AHHHHHHHHH!"

Stephano screamed because the cursor had crept up on her, and had now wrapped a tendril around her ankle. It pulled her towards its gaping, lipsticked maw. Desperately, Stephano chucked the plot hole filler into the cursor's mouth.

The cursor swallowed it, and was about to swallow our comedic relief author when it mutated.

It turned into an apple.

Stephano breathed a sigh of relief. "That was _way_ too close. And now I'm hungry." She ate the apple.

Soft evil music began playing in the background.

"Why is that creepy music playing?" Stephano wondered aloud. She shrugged. "Oh well… the pit orchestra must be protesting a pay cut or something." She got up and went over to the screen. "WAKE UP DUFFANO!" she yelled, pounding on the glass. "Come rescue your friend from computer hell!"

Duffano twitched, and sat up. She wiped drool from her chin and stared at the computer screen. "Stephano?" she asked.

"Yes, it's me. Just get me out of here, please."

"Okay, um… how?"

"You figure it out! You're the smart one!"

Duffano got up and walked around the desk, studying the computer. Decisively, she hit the back of the computer. Stephano flew out of the screen and into her chair. "Thank you!" Stephano said enthusiastically. "You have no idea what I just went through."

Duffano came back around to the front of the computer, and read the transcript of Stephano's adventure. "Stephano!"

"What?" Stephano demanded. "You're not going to yell at me after I went through all of that, are you?"

"Of course I am! Where did you get that wand?"

"A girl, named Jillian. She had the prettiest chestnut brown hair, beautiful green eyes, and she was the loveliest- OH MY GOD!"

"She was a Mary Sue, Stephano!" Duffano yelled. "You bleeding idiot! You could have destroyed our story!"

"I'm sorry!" Stephano cried, bursting into tears. "I didn't mean to! I was just… bored!"

"Well, you're not writing anything else without me there to supervise you, got it?"

Stephano nodded glumly. Duffano settled back into her seat. "Now, I realized last night that we forgot the scene with Boromir and Aragorn with Narsil. Do you have any plot hole filler left? Or did you throw it all at the cursor?"

Stephano opened a drawer in their desk that was filled with Extreme Fluffy Mcnutter Gap Holder plot hole filler. She took out a can and handed it to Duffano.

Duffano tied a rope around her waist, and handed the other end to Stephano. "When I tell you to, pull me back out, okay?" Stephano nodded. "Okay, I'm going in." And she jumped into the computer.

Duffano jumped on the scroll button until she reached the point where the Aragorn/Boromir scene was supposed to be. A gaping hole was there. She dumped the plot hole filler there, and yelled, "All right, Stephano! Reel me back in!"

Stephano pulled her back out of the computer. Duffano slumped in her seat. "Whew. Now we should be able to fill that plot hole."

And so she began to write.

Aragorn was sitting in one of the top-secret rooms, cleaning his gun. No one really knew why he was there, or why he was cleaning his gun in that room, but people tended not to question Aragorn. He was a very good shot with that shotgun.

As Aragorn was cleaning his gun, the door opened, and another man walked in, dressed in a security uniform. "Oh!" the newcomer said uncomfortably. "I, er, didn't realize anyone was, erm, here…"

"Hi," Aragorn said.

"Hello," the man said, evidently relieved that Aragorn was not going to kill him or something. He crossed to a table in the corner. A doorknob lay on the table. He picked up the doorknob, and inspected it. "Wow… the doorknob that came out when Sauron tripped and went comatose just before going to prison."

Aragorn put his gun back together with a loud snap. The other man jumped, and dropped the doorknob with a clang. He glanced at the doorknob, glanced at Aragorn, who was currently checking if his cross hairs were still calibrated correctly, and exited the room quickly.

Aragorn rose, and went to the table. He picked the doorknob up, and placed it reverently on the table. It rolled off. "Damn," he said softly. He placed it on the table again, and positioned it so that it wouldn't roll off.

The door opened behind him. Arwen walked into the room, kicking the door closed behind her. "Why are you being antisocial?" she demanded.

"I just wanted to come see it again," he said defensively.

"Aragorn, you're not going to be stupid like Isildur. Especially since you know I'll kick your ass if you are."

"Yeah, but still… what if I screw up?"

"Oh stop being such a worry wart and come make out with me in random corners."

"That's all I have energy for, folks," Duffano said, leaning back. "And I'm not letting Stephano so much as breath on the computer from now on."

"Oh come on!"

"No, Stephano! Anyway, I know this was a little short. But you'll just have to suck it up and deal with it, won't you? Because we're the authors, and you are not. Ta!"


	8. The Chapter of Ambiguous Themes

Duffano skipped into the room. "Well, this place is certainly very untidy," she said, looking around. "I guess that's what happens to nondescript places where laws of nature are bent to suit our wishes when they go unused for months at a time."

Stephano staggered in. "Yeah, and so in a fit of illness induced delirium, we will try to write another chapter."

Duffano nodded, and pulled a feather duster out of nowhere. She began dusting the mantle.

"We have a mantle?" Stephano asked.

Duffano glanced at the feather duster, at the mantle, and then at Stephano. "Er… we do now."

"Oh… okay."

Duffano went back to dusting the conveniently placed mantle. "Anyway, we're home from school today because we're both sick."

"Especially since we're only one person."

"Precisely."

"Hey, Duffano, do you ever wonder why we decided to write this fic as if we were two people and not one?"

Duffano paused, and glanced at Stephano. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," she said.

"Wasn't that a Star Trek quote?" Stephano asked.

"… No."

"You dork."

"Stephano, we're writing a spoof about Lord of the Rings. Do you think that our readers don't already _know_ that I'm a dork? I mean, it takes one to know one, after all."

Stephano looked around. "Hey, where _are_ the readers?" she asked.

Duffano shrugged. "Up there," she said, pointing at the ceiling.

Stephano looked up and saw the readers, suspended in cages from the ceiling. She grabbed a broom handle and began poking them.

"Stephano!"

"What?"

"Stop abusing the readers!"

"As if you didn't abuse them by locking them in cages and hanging them from an imaginary ceiling?"

"Well, the cages are imaginary too."

Upon realizing this, all the readers fell out of the imaginary cages and fell onto the floor, which was also, more or less, imaginary.

Stephano smiled at them, and said, "Duffano, I have a feeling that this chapter is going to be full of paradoxes."

"Hoo-rah," Duffano said, in a Marine-like fashion.

* * *

Chapter

"Stephano? What chapter is it?"

"Who cares?"

"Fine!"

* * *

Chapter

The Fellowship of the Ring stood ranged around Elrond in the FBI headquarters lobby. The members of the FBI stood facing them, with Elrond at their head.

Everyone stared at each other for a while, waiting. No one really knew what they were waiting for, but they had the dim idea that something important was supposed to be happening, but wasn't. Elrond began whistling absentmindedly.

"Well, that was a mistake," Duffano muttered.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Stephano asked.

"I think so."

"Time to break out the musical theatre."

"Hell yeah, bitches."

A pit orchestra started playing from nowhere in particular. Their song was "Goodbye Until Tomorrow" (A/N: Spoofed from The Last Five Years by Jason Robert Brown. Check it out, it rocks.). Elrond started singing, and non-specific techies put on mood lighting from nowhere in particular.

_Remember, protect the ring,_

_Don't leave it by the road, please._

_I'm saying goodbye, _

_And you're going away._

_And so I'll just sing._

_All of our hopes,_

_Every last one,_

_Is wrapped inside your frat boy fate._

_Please don't screw up, _

_I'll kick your ass if I must._

_And goodbye, until tomorrow, goodbye._

_Until you've finished the job,_

_And I will be waiting, I will be waiting._

_Goodbye, until tomorrow, goodbye,_

'_Til you have killed Sauron,_

_And I will be waiting, I will be waiting for you._

_I wish you the best of luck,_

_Because I think you'll need it._

_I hope you don't die,_

_Because that would suck,_

_With the apocalypse coming._

_So please get going,_

_Don't have much time,_

_We only have a few days you see._

_Please hurry up,_

_Before Sauron launches a siege._

_And wipes out the world._

_So goodbye, until tomorrow, goodbye,_

_Can you see the importance?_

_And I will be waiting, I will be waiting._

_Goodbye, until tomorrow, goodbye,_

_Until we're finally safe,_

_And I will be waiting, I will be waiting for you._

Elrond finished his song, the pit orchestra stopped playing from nowhere in particular, and the non-specific techies turned off the mood lighting from nowhere in particular and melted into the shadows. Everyone stood there for a minute.

"Well, that was interesting," Gandalf said. "I didn't know you were a soprano, Elrond."

"Were you listening to my song? We don't have time! Get moving!" Elrond shouted.

"Oh, right. Come on, everyone, let's-" Gandalf started.

"ROAD TRIP!" yelled the college boys, and they pelted out to the limo that was waiting for them outside. The rest of the fellowship followed slowly.

Gandalf sat in the front, with Aragorn beside him in the passenger seat. The rest of them piled into the back with the four college boys.

Merry and Pippin were singing at the tops of their voices:

_We're off to save the world,_

_To save the world from Sauron._

_Because because because because,_

_Because we really don't want to die._

"You realize that that doesn't follow the rhyme scheme or tune at all, right?" Duffano asked Stephano.

"Whatever. They don't know the difference."

"Maybe with 'Goodbye Until Tomorrow', since _The Last Five Years_ is pretty obscure, but not with 'We're Off to See the Wizard'. Everyone knows that song!"

"LOOK! I DON'T CARE!"

"ALRIGHT! Jeez…"

* * *

They were stopped at a rest stop, eating their lunch at the picnic tables there. Gandalf had a road map spread upon the table in front of him. "Okay, now, if we take Route 100 west, and then get on I-97, we should be able to get to the Museum without too much trouble," he was saying to Aragorn.

Merry, Pippin, and Boromir ran out of the convenience store at the rest stop, all holding large baguettes. They started to whack each other repeatedly with the bread, while the rest of the Fellowship just watched, gape mouthed.

"I don't get it," Sam said.

"You're not supposed to," Aragorn replied.

"Gandalf, why don't we take the Subway to the Museum?" Gimli asked, scratching his plumber's butt crack thoughtfully.

Gandalf grimaced at the plumber. "Um… thanks, but… no."

"Why not?" Gimli demanded.

Just then, Legolas started twitching. Gandalf recognized this as a sign that something was coming in on the agent's earpiece, and watched him intently, glad for an excuse to ignore Gimli.

"OW!" Pippin yelled from the bread fight, dropping his baguette. "Boromir, you just got crumbs in my eyes!"

"Oh, damn. Sorry," Boromir said, lowering his own loaf.

Pippin promptly shoved the end of his baguette into Boromir's eye. "DOGPILE!" yelled Merry, and the two tackled the security guard.

"ORGY!" Stephano yelled.

"No, Stephano. Under no circumstances will they have an orgy," Duffano snapped.

"Kill joy," Stephano muttered.

"Stop it," Aragorn scolded, going over to the flailing mass of stupidity. "You'll get grass stains on his uniform, and those are a bitch to get out."

Merry turned and whacked Aragorn in the crotch with his baguette. Aragorn groaned, and flopped over.

"I hope you weren't planning on eating that," Frodo called. "You might get herpes."

"I DO NOT HAVE-" Aragorn started to bellow breathlessly.

"Why is Legolas twitching?" Sam asked.

"His ear piece short circuited and is frying what little brain he has," Gimli answered promptly.

"No," Boromir said. "He's getting information from CIA."

Legolas scowled at Gimli. "The butterflies are coming!" he said urgently.

The college boys stared at him. "And this is a problem because…?" Merry asked.

Gandalf, who was looking rather panicked, hit him over the head with the rolled up map. "Stupid boy!" he yelled. "That's what Saruman uses for spies! We'll have to change our route, his house is way too close to I-97 for it to be safe."

"Really? Butterflies for spies?" Pippin asked with interest. "Well that brings his gay-o-meter reading up to an unsurpassed level."

"Quick, to the limo! I have just what we need," Gandalf cried, racing for the limo. Curiously, the others followed while performing the choreography for "West Side Story."

"Nice save of our theme, there, Duffano."

"Whatever Stephano. It would help if we hadn't tried to start this nine million times."

Ten minutes later, the Fellowship was sitting around the picnic table one more. This time, however, they were dressed as women, in an attempt to throw off the apparently dangerous butterflies.

"You know, Gandalf- excuse me- Gandalfina, you having drag in the back of the limo 'just in case' might beat Saruman's butterflies on the gay-o-meter," Pippin said to Gandalf, pushing uselessly against the frizzy red afro wig he had been forced into.

"Are these really supposed to chafe?" Merry wanted to know, scratching himself and readjusting the stuffed sports bra he had on.

"SHHH!" Gandalf hissed, pointing past the parking lot. A vague haze of color was lazily flapping in their direction.

"Hey, why didn't we just leave?" Frodo asked. Gandalf hit him in the head with the absurdly large purse he was carrying.

And then the butterflies were upon them. "Don't. Move," Gandalf muttered out of the corner of his mouth, trying to move as little as possible.

As quickly as they had come, the butterflies flew off in a decidedly un-butterfly-like fashion. Everyone at the table breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. At least, until a young couple pushing a stroller stared at them strangely, and hurried back to their van.

"Snobs," sniffed Gandalf.

"Gandalf, we're in drag," Frodo reminded him.

"Oh… right. Let's get out of it, then!"

Ten minutes later, they were male once again, and well on their way down Route 100. Serenity reigned… not.

"SOMEONE FARTED!" Merry screamed.

"For heaven's sake, Merry, it's not that bad," Aragorn snapped.

"SOMEONE CUT THE CHEESE!" Merry continued.

"Stop complaining! It was probably you, anyway!" Aragorn retorted.

"THERE IS FLATULENCE IN THE AIR!" Pippin yelled.

"Oh for the love of-"

"WHO BLEW OFF?"

"WHO LET ONE RIP?"

Frodo groaned, and opened the window for some fresh air. He stuck his head out the window and took a deep breath.

"You know what'd be really funny, Duffano?" Stephano said eagerly.

"What, Stephano?"

"If he got hit in the head with debris and his head was ripped off."

Duffano stared at Stephano. "No," she said flatly.

"Aw, c'mon!"

"NO! We are NOT killing the main protagonist, and that is FINAL!"

"…What about maiming?"

"No, Stephano!"

"You are so immature," Legolas said to Merry and Pippin. "Grow up."

Merry and Pippin glared at him, and started singing,

_It's a hard-knock life for us!_

_It's a hard-knock life for us!_

_We get yelled at, and scolded,_

_We get beat up, and get kicked,_

_It's a hard-knock life!_

_They don't like our humor, so,_

_It's the hard-knock row we hoe._

_No one loves us, and they're mean,_

_And someone just ate some beans,_

_And so it really stinks!_

They proceeded to attempt an energetic dance number with some randomly appearing buckets and brooms. Gandalf swore, and jerked the wheel when a soggy mop head hit him in the back of the head, throwing Frodo out the open window.

"So much for not maiming the main protagonist," muttered a reader.

"OH SHIT!" yelled all the occupants of the limo.

Gandalf slammed on the brakes-

"Can Boromir get thrown through the windshield?"

"NO, Stephano!"

Gandalf slammed on the brakes, jerking everyone against their restraints. Aragorn quickly unbuckled himself, and practically threw himself out of the car, narrowly missing the gory ending envisioned by Stephano at this point. Boromir followed more slowly for a reason that will conveniently be ignored for the better part of this story.

"Are you okay, Frodo?" Aragorn asked.

"I was just thrown from a moving vehicle!" Frodo screamed hysterically. "And you're asking me if I'm OKAY? OKAY? Yes, Aragorn, I am spectacular! I may have broken several ribs, and might be bleeding to death internally as we speak, but I'm BLOODY PEACHY!"

"Jeez, it was just a simple question. Don't get your panties in a twist, Grandma," Aragorn said sullenly, pulling Frodo to his feet.

Frodo checked his pockets. "OH NO! AND NOW I LOST THE FREAKING RING!"

Boromir was standing a few feet away from them, holding the Ring. "Found it," he said, staring at the Ring.

They waited for him to give Frodo the Ring.

And waited.

And waited.

It was nearly twilight when they figured out that Boromir was not going to hand over the Ring under his own willpower. "BOROMIR!" Aragorn yelled.

Boromir twitched. "What?"

"Give Frodo the Ring."

"But I like it."

"NOW!"

"FINE!" Boromir yelled. He chucked the Ring at Frodo, and ran back to the limo, slamming the door closed behind him.

Saruman was watching the footage from the microscopic cameras attached to his flock of butterflies. "So… changing your route, are you?" he said, with a diabolical air. "Well, if you won't go by 97, then I'm sure 100 can be just as dangerous…. Dangerous enough, perhaps to resort to taking the Subway…."

Legolas was twitching a lot again. Sam thought this was really creepy, and yelled for Gandalf to stop him. But Gandalf said something about earpieces and asked Legolas what he was hearing.

"I'm picking up weird signals," Legolas answered. "Scattered words. Swoop and squat…. What's a swoop and squat?"

"According to Allstate Insurance commercials, it's an insurance fraud technique," Aragorn said.

"You know a lot of useless information, Aragorn," Merry informed him.

"Shut up," Aragorn snapped.

"Well, anyway, there's stuff about a limo. Something like attack," Legolas said.

Gandalf paled. "He's sending cars after us!" A car zoomed by them, and angled to run them off the road. Gandalf swerved around it.

"LOOK!" screamed Boromir, point out the window at an exit sign. "It's the exit to I-97! We can get off here, and get to the Museum quicker!"

"We'll get too close to Saruman's!" Aragorn screamed back.

"LOOK!" screamed Gimli, pointing out another window to a Subway station. "We can take the Subway!"

Gandalf did not look pleased at this prospect.

"The Subway," Saruman muttered, as if he could read Gandalf's mind. "You fear to go into the Subway. You know what waits in those tunnels, what stalks along those tracks." He pulled a random book off his bookcase, and flipped through it to a picture of a train. "Metal… and glass!"

More cars swarmed towards the Fellowship's limo. "We can't exactly stay on 100, you know," Boromir said to Gandalf. "Not with these conditions."

"Hey, Frodo! You get to decide!" Gandalf called.

"But, I-"

"Well? Which way are we going?"

Frodo looked worried, and yelled, "SUBWAY!"

Gandalf looked grave, and said, "So be it."

"THE END!" Stephano yelled.

"Yeah, since the script site we use chunks it like this. We'll be following it for the most part," Duffano said. "Unless some of the scenes are ridiculously long and we don't want to. BWUHA!"

"Rate, review, or DIE!" Stephano said, threatening the readers with a rusty ax.

"Where did you get that ax?"

"I found it…"


	9. Posing and Paranoia

"Duffano!" squealed Stephano, launching herself at her partner.

"GAH! Why are you so perky?" shouted Duffano, shoving Stephano into a chair.

"Because we forgot the disclaimer last time."

"Oh sure, bring attention to it, why don't you? And why would that make you happy?"

Stephano struck what I'm sure she thought was a bad ass pose. "Because I'm bad to the bone. And I enjoy copyright infringement."

"Uh-huh… right. Stop standing like that, you'll scare the children," Duffano ordered.

"What children?" Stephano wanted to know.

"My children."

"You don't have any kids."

"Well that pose is so bad that some of the suckiness is bleeding into the future and boring out my children's brains. Now stop it."

Stephano pouted, but stopped. "Hey, don't we usually end up introducing the chapter theme in our ridiculously long Author's Note?" she asked.

Duffano shrugged. "I guess. I can't really think of any. They usually develop later on in the chapter though…"

"But it usually stems off of whatever happened in here, right?"

"Yeah, I think… well I certainly hope your poses aren't going to be the theme for this chap-" Duffano stopped short, realizing what she had just said. "Oh, no. No, come on, Stephano, don't do poses the whole time!"

Stephano was grinning evilly, but said, "Whatever are you talking about, Duffano? Why would I pose a lot?" She carefully arranged herself in an uncomfortable looking position in her chair.

"There! See, you're making it the theme already!" Duffano shouted.

"Either that or your paranoia will be the theme," Stephano replied calmly.

Duffano opened her mouth to protest, and realized Stephano might be right.

Stephano smiled smugly, and said, "Blah blah blah, you know the drill. We don't own this. New Line and the Tolkiens own this. More power to them. We just make fun of it in a vaguely legal manner."

* * *

Chapter 8

Gandalf pulled through two parking spots in the Subway's parking lot, and parked the limo. He turned around to look at his passengers. "Well… we're here," he said. "Everyone out."

The Fellowship sighed in an oddly similar manner, and exited the limo. Gandalf pulled Frodo aside, claiming he needed Frodo's help getting something out of the trunk.

"We're not bringing that drag, are we Gandalf?" Frodo wanted to know. "Because I think Pippin would start prancing and giggling nasally whenever he talked to you if we did."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gandalf demanded.

"Erm… nothing," Frodo said.

"Right, well I wanted to warn you. I think you're in danger."

"Um… duh."

"FROM WITHIN, FRODO, FROM WITHIN!" Gandalf screamed suddenly.

Frodo jumped, and decided that the best course of action was to just nod and smile. So he nodded, smiled, and ran to catch up with the others as they were hurrying down the steps into the Subway Station.

"NOT THAT WAY, YOU FOOLS!" Gandalf yelled.

The other men jumped and turned to stare at him. "Why not?" demanded Boromir.

"It's too conspicuous!" Gandalf said impatiently, as if this should be obvious. "We have to go around the back!" Beckoning mysteriously, he led them around the building and through a dense thicket of thorns.

"OW!" screamed Frodo as an inch-long thorn attempted to pierce his hand. "Gandalf, are you certain this is the only safe way in?"

"Yes!" Gandalf replied insistently. "Even plumbers have trouble getting to their entrances!"

"This recalls the pressing question," Pippin said irritably, nursing a nasty scratch on his hand, "why the hell are we going through THIS door?"

Gandalf finally pushed through the final layer of thorns. The Fellowship stumbled through the thicket to gather around him, panting and ragged. Gandalf tugged at the handle. The door stayed closed. He tugged again. Still nothing. Gandalf began cursing and wrenching the doorknob in an attempt to open it.

"I don't think it's open," Pippin muttered to Legolas.

"I have the key somewhere in here," Gandalf muttered, rifling through his pockets.

"What if you lost it?" Pippin inquired curiously.

"Then we'll feed you to the thorns."

"Why?"

"Because I want to. DRAT! I don't have it."

"Um… Gandalf?" Frodo said uncertainly.

"What, Frodo? I'm rather preoccupied right now," Gandalf snapped impatiently.

"It's just… um," Frodo said tentatively, turning the doorknob and pushing _in_.

Gandalf stared at the open doorway, his eye twitching. An hour passed before anyone had the nerve to disturb him. "Um… Gandalf?" Aragorn prodded gently.

"WHAT?" Gandalf roared. Apparently an hour was not enough time for him to cool off.

"Are we going to go in? It's just… you know, that Saruman is still after us, and the butterflies-"

Aragorn was cut off at this point by Merry and Pippin snickering uncontrollably. Everyone sent them nasty looks, which just made them snicker harder. Boromir hit them over the head and Gandalf led the Fellowship inside.

After several properly tense minutes of sneaking around, made worse by Merry and Pippin making sexual references to every position and setting they found themselves hiding in, the Fellowship stood before the turnstiles leading onto the loading platforms. Merry and Pippin began frolicking amongst the strangely empty turnstiles. Aragorn threw a conveniently placed ambiguous object of correct throwing weight at them.

Stephano poked Duffano in the shoulder. "What?" Duffano snapped.

"Why are we so quiet?" Stephano whispered.

"Because you're obnoxious and have nothing interesting to say."

"You're just trying to avoid a theme."

"And if I am?" Duffano demanded.

Stephano smiled serenely. "Then your avoidance will become the theme." Suddenly dropping her calm façade, Stephano went into a fit of maniacal laughter. "YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE THEMES! BWUHAHAHA!" She then proceeded to fling herself about in overly dramatic poses.

Duffano rolled her eyes and went back to writing.

The entire Fellowship made it through the turnstiles, and turned to look back at Frodo. Frodo had been distracted by a conveniently placed-

"Are we conveniently placing everything?" Stephano wanted to know, as she conveniently placed herself in a showgirl pose.

"Yes, now shush," Duffano ordered.

Frodo had been distracted by a conveniently placed, ambiguous object of sufficient luster to-

"We're being ambiguous this chapter," Stephano observed.

"Why look, a conveniently placed frying pan!" Duffano shouted, grabbing the frying pan.

"No, no," Stephano admonished. "That's a randomly appearing frying pan."

Duffano's eye twitched, and she began beating Stephano with the randomly appearing frying pan. After Stephano had been reduced to a sobbing pile of humanity in the corner, Duffano sat down once again to write.

In short, Frodo had been distracted by something shiny. And now he was separated from the Fellowship by the turnstiles. Hurriedly, he started through the turnstiles.

At least, he tried. The turnstiles malfunctioned and wouldn't turn. In fact, they began turning backwards. Frodo started screaming. "Help me!" he screamed, trying to climb over the rotating metal bars. "Help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me!"

The Fellowship began screaming as well, but incoherently and probably profanely. All eight of them rushed to the turnstiles but lacked the coordination to do anything productive to help Frodo. The security guard started out of his plexi-glass booth, frowning.

"DO SOMETHING!" Frodo screamed at Aragorn.

Aragorn pulled out his shotgun. Everyone in the station dove for cover. Aragorn shot the security guard for gratuitous violence, and then shot the turnstiles several times. Frodo, shaking madly, scrambled through the stilled turnstiles. "Um… thanks," he said, eyeing Aragorn warily.

Aragorn shrugged and discharged the empty shells onto the floor. "No problem."

A random bystander stood up and shouted, "You homicidal bastard! You just shot the security guard!"

Aragorn shrugged, and shouldered past the shocked Fellowship. "Well? COME ON!" he shouted back at them.

"I think she's going to call the cops."

"Yeah, I see the cell phone."

"Definitely calling the cops."

"Definitely."

"How long until they get here?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Okay. Yep, definitely calling the cops, there's the hysterical screaming."

"MERRY! PIPPIN! Come ON!" Sam yelled at the two frat boys, interrupting their highly amusing commentary. They complied reluctantly.

* * *

"Stephano, I think now's a good time to end this chapter."

Stephano looked shocked, and even threw her hands up stiffly in a surprised pose. "But we're not following the scene groupings decreed by that script website," she protested.

"Yeah, but this is getting tiresome," Duffano whined. "I think the reason we never update if because we set requirements for chapter length, and then we never have the attention span to reach these goals."

"Well that's just 'cause we're lazy."

"I know. But I feel bad for never updating. And it's not like this is extremely short. It's five good pages of spoof-ness."

Stephano skewered Duffano with a stern look. "You just ran out of ideas."

Duffano squirmed uncomfortably. "It's not my fault!" she burst out. "Nanners hasn't been on to help me because she's moving to Korea!"

"Your excuses mean nothing!" Stephano shouted dramatically, stalking out of the room aloof…ly… yes. Aloofly.

Duffano sniffled for a while until she realized that maybe now people would review. "All right, so I'm sorry it's a little short. But if you want updates you might have to get used to shorter chapters. By the way, we're using the Author Profile as a sort of blog. So I'll be posting stuff there in a vaguely regular manner." She waved at the readers. "See you next time! And review!"


End file.
